At The End Of The Day, It's All Just Instincts
by Emulemur
Summary: When Bane breaks her out of Arkham Asylum, Anastasia knows she's in for an interesting time. Arkham has kept her from her fun for too long, but no more. However, Bane's constant curiosity of her is proving to be a problem, for them both. Bane/OC, rated M for language and sexual themes in chapters to come.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, let's see how this first chapter goes. Let me know what you think of it.**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia, and nothing else**

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The frail girl sits on the small worn bed in the corner of the room, her eyes fixed on the giant metal door, which was unfortunately locked from the outside. The nails of her right hand pick at the cuticles of her left, managing to grab hold of a strip of skin that she slowly pulls off. Her eyes never leave the door as she brings her bleeding finger to her mouth and sucks. Eyelids flutter as the sting of her saliva spreads up her thumb. The loud rumblings had started four minutes and 37 seconds ago, and were getting louder. She smirked, knowing she was the target of whoever the source of the ruckus was. Finally, several bullets puncture the lock, and the door swings open. She doesn't move a muscle other than to drop her hand from her mouth. The men, heavy with vests and guns, walk in.

"Anastasia Delcourt?" The one in the front asks her as his brown eyes meet her gray ones.

"The one and only. How may I help you?" She asks, a smirk playing on her pale, cracked lips.

"Bane requests your presence." The same man says, almost sarcastically. _As if you have a choice_, he thinks.

"Took him long enough." Anastasia gets up and walks out, following the armed men out of Arkham Asylum.

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She couldn't deny her fascination with the man. Bane, he calls himself. He'd been taking control of the city for weeks, planning on giving it back to the people. At least she'd been able to keep up at Arkham, thanks to her TV watching privileges. And now that it had almost come time to completely unravel this city, he had sought her out.

"Nice place you got here." Anastasia broke through the silence, squinting at the shitty sewers around her.

"It serves its purpose." She couldn't help but smile at his voice. It was altered, almost robotic. Surprisingly high pitched for someone of his size, but it still managed to send chills up her spine. Though not from fear. _God, this man is hug_e, she thought to herself.

"You must be wondering why I brought you here." Bane continues.

"I'm guessing it has something to do with bringing Gotham to its knees." He smirks, which is apparent from the creases at the corner of his right eye.

"Something like that. But I don't need your help. I assure you I'm quite capable of doing so on my own." Anastasia frowns, slightly confused, before Bane continues talking. "I was merely curious as to how the city of Gotham could lock up its finest citizen!" Now that, Anastasia wasn't confused about. She smiled one of her finest wicked smiles at the giant that stood before her.

"What can I say, no one understands me!" She fakes a whiny, adolescent voice. "However, if you don't require my assistance, may I go?" Not that she wasn't interested in the man, but she simply had other things to attend to. Bane lets out a voluminous laugh before answering her question.

"Of course! You are not a prisoner here." And with that, the 5'8'' girl turned on her heels and walked back through the sewers that she came from, something very little people got to do. Of course, she knew that would not be the last time she saw Bane. She knew he had busted her out for a reason. With that thought, she strutted down the snowy, empty streets of Gotham, back to her home.

It wasn't much, but the small, two bedroom house had been in her family for a long time. Tipping the potted plant on the front porch over, she grabbed the spare key and unlocked the door. As she stepped inside, the deep red living room greeted her, as well as her dead cat in the middle of the hall.

"Oh. Well…That's unfortunate." She said to herself as she took a careful step over the carcass, towards the kitchen. She didn't dare open the fridge, sure that half the items in there had grown fur by now. However, as her ears adjusted to the quiet, she could distinctly hear the buzzing of the fridge. She frowned, surely all power had been turned off when she was admitted 3 years ago? She hand reaching out towards the sink, she turns the faucet and sure enough, clear water poured down. At that second, it clicked in her mind. She mentally thanked Bane for preparing her house for her.

"Time to finally have an unsupervised shower!" Anastasia told herself. She took the stairs two at a time and wasted not a second before she stripped herself of her Arkham patient uniform. As she waited for the water of the shower to warm up, she stared at herself in the mirror. She had not seen herself in almost a year. She vaguely remembers the day she had her mirror privileges taken away from her. Snapping out of her nostalgia, her light gray eyes settled on her own face. It was thin and pale. She would need to fix that, and soon. Couldn't go around looking like a starved ghost, now could she? She had lost plenty of weight in Arkham, which was apparent by how her ribs and hips protruded from her body. And her hair. God, her fucking hair. Why the hell was it so hard to get a haircut around that hellhole? It now reached her lower back and the shiny black color it used to be had faded to a dull, almost gray color. Anastasia tore her eyes away from her reflection and stepped into the almost scalding shower. God, it felt good. Apparently, comfortable showers were prohibited at Arkham, leaving her to wash herself under freezing water, not to mention the supervision of her favorite nurse, Gina.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom slams open, showing a very stoic Bane in the doorway. Anastasia pulled the curtain back, unembarrassed at her almost exposed body.

"May I help you?"

"Yes." He replies in that voice that send sparks right up her spine. "Get dressed and come downstairs." She raises her eyebrow at him and scoffs.

"I haven't taken a hot shower in three years. You can wait." Anastasia turns back to her shower. However, not a second later, Bane rips the curtain off completely and grabs the shower nozzle. His eyes interlocking with her now wide ones, he turns the water off, and successfully rips it off the wall, rendering the shower useless.

"Are you serious?!" She yells at him. "I was just at your nice little sewer home, you couldn't talk to me there? Instead of coming here 15 minutes after me leaving, and breaking my fucking shower?"

"No." He simply replies, almost amused, and with that his arm reaches for her neck. A move most people wouldn't even notice until their air supply was cut off completely. Thankfully for Anastasia, she wasn't unfamiliar with the League of Shadows, which she was sure Bane knew. Her thin, naked frame bent back, allowing his hand to connect with the tile wall behind her. Bane smirked. _She doesn't disappoint_, he thought.

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**Well, that's that. Don't forget to review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I know this one's super short, I just wanted to get something out tonight! Hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia, and nothing else**

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"Okay, okay! Jesus, keep your hair on Bane!" Anastasia quietly chuckled at her pun. This man was balder than a newborn baby's ass. "I don't want you tearing my house apart. Let me get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs." The boulder of a man stepped away from the shower and stood in the doorway, determined to not let her out of his sight. As Anastasia reached for her towel and wrapped it around herself, she eyed Bane. "You're seriously going to watch me?" When he didn't answer her, she sighed in an irritated manner and slipped past him to her bedroom, with Bane right behind her. In there, she knew she'd find the clothes she'd been missing for the past three years. She dropped the towel as she stood in front of her dresser, pulling a drawer open and rifling through the contents. Pulling on boxer shorts and sweatpants, she looked over her shoulder at Bane, irritated at his invasion of her privacy.

Bane couldn't help but look upon the young women, now half naked, in front of him. His eyes scanned her back, noticing all the scars on her upper arms and back, not to mention the too-apparent outlines of her ribcage.

"You have many scars." He pointed out to her. He heard her sigh.

"Yes, I do." She didn't sound embarrassed, he noted.

"Some look self-inflicted." Bane wished he could see her face. He was good at reading people, and Anastasia was someone he wanted to understand.

"Yes well, when everyone around you tells you you're too different to fit into regular society, you start to believe it." She sounded bitter, but not ashamed of her scars. This surprised Bane more than anything.

Bane's mind goes back to when he first heard about this girl. He had heard several of his men talking of Gotham's Survival-Of-The-Fittest Girl. He had asked them to tell him about her, and so they explained to him who this strange girl was, and what she had done. She had walked in on a man robbing her house one evening, and had shot him square in the head without even blinking. In court, self-defense could not be proven, and when asked if she had anything to say for herself, she simply shrugged and said 'Survival of the fittest'. Being only 17 at the time, she went to Juvy, and got out very quickly. After that, it was a game of cat and mouse between her and the police. She could commit crimes on impulse, tagging the walls of wherever she was in red. 'Survival of the fittest', the graffiti would say. Somehow, the girl would become invisible. The cops could never figure out where she was, which Bane found amusing, since it only took him a week or so to find out where her house was. Though the cops did eventually catch up with her right after she turned 21, after she had gone into one of the shittiest, dirtiest bars in Gotham and shot 13 men. After that, they deemed her criminally insane, and locked her up at Arkham Asylum. This girl, Anastasia Delcourt, interested him. She was only 17 years old when she figured out how the world should work. Bane had also asked his men what of her parents. Surely, a girl with this mentality at such a young age had to have some kind of scarring past? All they could tell their fearless leader was that her parents hadn't been in the picture for a while.

Bane snapped back out of his thoughts as she pulled on a black wife beater and slapped shut the drawer. Her light gray eyes met his, and all she could say to at that moment was "Tea?" Though she was pretty sure he wasn't a tea drinker…and maybe not a drinker at all, considering his mask. Once again, he followed her out of the room and into the kitchen, noticing the dead cat in the doorway with a frown.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Here's chapter 3! I'm already pretty happy with 5 reviews, but I definitely want them to keep coming, so don't be shy!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia**

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There I was, sitting in my kitchen in front of Gotham's most dangerous giant. I stabbed at my macaroni and cheese before pushing the plate away from me. I'd eaten the majority of the box, which seemed like a feat considering how small of a size my stomach had shrunk to over the last three years. I examine his face. I want to ask about his mask desperately, my curious nature coming out. But I want to wait to see if he mentions it first. I'm sure people ask him about it often, so I want to see his reaction when I don't acknowledge it. At the moment, neither of us was talking, so my eyes roamed the oh-so familiar room. A layer of dust had settled on everything. I was going to have to do some serious cleaning later, I told myself. The wallpaper was pealing as well. It was plain off-white, with a horizontal strip of brown around the whole room. I remember how much I had begged my parents to get the one with the blue strip, instead of the brown. I had been 6 years old, and my request fell on deaf ears. A small smile crept up on my lips.

"Where are your parents?" Bane asks, his eyes roaming my face for any emotion. What the hell, I asked myself. This guy couldn't read minds, could he?

"France. They moved there after I emancipated myself when I was 15." I reply as I rest my chin in my hand, elbow propped up on the marble table. I can see in his eyes that he's trying to figure out what made me this way. I continue when he doesn't reply.

"I know what you're thinking." I say, and Bane scoffs in response.

"Unlikely."

"You're thinking about how a girl so young could adopt this mentality without some kind of horror happening to her to cause it." Bane doesn't say anything, and I know I'm right. "Let me make it easy for you. I had loving parents. I grew up in a middle class home and I was never hungry for anything. I wasn't raped, beaten, or abused in any way. There was no event to trigger this response in my behavior. Do you want to know why?"

"Yes." I threw me off, how clearly and determined he responded. This man really did bust me out of Arkham to understand me, and he wasn't afraid to show me his curiosity.

"It's because I was born this way. And that's what scared the doctors the most. The killings didn't convince them I was insane, it was the fact that I was born like this. That I could grow up in such a normal way, and still end up so 'crazy'." I used air quotes around the word crazy, because even though they never used that word, I knew they were all thinking it. "But they didn't understand my reasoning. I didn't take pleasure in killing people. I didn't go out of my way to kill anyone. I simply did what I had to do to survive, and to keep people from messing with me. I stole when I was hungry, and I killed when I felt threatened. The way nature intended humans to work. Not like in today's society, where the weak hide behind their money, thinking they're better than everyone else. We live in a world run by cowards, and the strong at kept from rising with laws that prevents them from doing what they need to do to thrive. I'm not crazy. My brain works exactly how it should. It's everyone else's that has been corrupt."

"I agree." Was all Bane said. But it was enough to bring a smirk to my lips. Oh, how long had I waited for someone to step up to the plate with this mentality. Finally, this city was going to return to the age of natural selection, and I couldn't wait to see it.

"You were in the League of Shadows?" Bane suddenly asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Briefly. When I got out of Juvy, I went looking for them. I trained only for several months. Just enough to get by in Gotham. I was told I could have had a lot of potential had I stayed. But my intention wasn't to become some kind of super assassin. I just wanted to be able to fend for myself, and after a couple of months there, I reached that goal. So I left, came back here, and started my ongoing affair with the police." I finish that last sentence with a smile, remembering the thrill of being chased, but never caught. Until three years ago, of course. "What about you, what's your story?"

"I was raised in Hell on earth." Bane answers ever so mysteriously, that mechanical voice ringing in my ears.

"That does have a tendency to put a damper on your lifestyle." I nod my head, as if I understand exactly what he means. To be honest, I didn't really care that much. A part of me does wonder if that had anything to do with his size though. This beast of a man was massive. I was considered tall for a girl, standing at 5'8'', but I know Bane could easily snap me in two. I knew he'd been holding back in the shower, testing me I'm sure. My eyes fall on his shoulder muscles, which ripple under my stare. It was amazing how smooth his skin looked, not a blue vein in sight.

"You know, you should probably lay off the steroids. I hear they make your dick shrivel up." I attempt to hide my smile, but I can tell from his eyes that he's at least slightly amused with my antics.

"I assure you, I have no problem in that department." He responds, and I can't help but laugh lightly.

"Well would you look at that? Jolly Green Giant over here's got a sense of humor. Who knew?" I stand up, pick my plate off the table and dump it in the sink. I'll take care of it later, I think to myself. "So! Are you going to tell me about your plans for Gotham or what?"

"And why exactly would I do that?" Oh bane, always the tease. My nostrils flare at the irritation. Why was this man wasting my time again?

"I assume you busted me out of Arkham for a reason." I cross my arms, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Yes, I told you before. I was merely curious about you." He gets up as well, and out of instincts my arms uncross, readying for a fight if it comes to that. There's no way to not constantly feel physically threatened by Bane, his sheer size ensures that.

"If you were just curious, you could have just talked to me through my cell door." I imagine I adopted a tone he was not fond of, because not a second later, Bane was standing just inches of me. I gasp quietly, and my eyes narrow. I feel my knees slightly tremble, but I quickly tense up. Bane was not going to see a drop of fear in me, whether I felt it or not. My head falls back slightly and I look into his eyes. Of course he has gorgeous eyes, I think sarcastically. I place my flattened hand on the middle of his torso, fully intending to push him away, or at least attempt to. But the heat his body gives off stops me short. I swallow, my eyes flicking down to the place where my land lies, and then bite my lower lip.

"Surely the heat is another effect of the steroids." I attempt to say in a joking manner, but even I can tell it comes out shakily and weak. As the muscles under my hand tense, I snap my eyes back to his face, unsure of what's happening in this moment. Suddenly, he takes a step back and my hand drops back to my side. Bane turns, and walks out the kitchen. I slightly crane my neck to see if he's leaving. I see him bend over and grab my cat's leg, picking it up. My face pinches up, not from disgust of the carcass, but by his physical contact with it. With the dead cat in hand, Bane walks out of my home, but not before slightly turning his head towards me.

"I'll see you soon, Anastasia." He tells me as he's closing the door behind him. I roll my eyes, convinced he broke me out simply to irritate me. I contemplate my options. I could stay here and pretend I'm living like a normal 24 year old, while having regular meetings with the man about to take Gotham apart. Or, I could leave all this behind. I'm fairly sure Bane wouldn't come after me. He has much better things to attend to. But do I want to leave this behind? I'll admit, Bane interests me. I've never met a man with the same viewpoints as me. Surely this would be interesting. Deciding I'll stay here, at least for a little while, I open the drawer under the sink and grab the dish soap and sponge.

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	4. Chapter 4

**Here's chapter 4! It's mostly a filler, the fun comes next chapter. BUT! I'd like at least 3 reviews before I put the next one out! So get to it :]**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia **

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The clock on the wall indicated it was 10:37pm when my front door was slammed open violently. Bane, I thought.

"It's not even locked! You don't have to open it like a savage, shit." I place the window cleaner on the coffee table of the living room and walk towards the hallway, only to stop short when I see 2 armed men looking at me. I recognize them. They helped get me out of Arkham.

"Come with us." They demand, and I smirk. Come on, I thought, Bane didn't seriously expect me to follow his every order, did he?

"Sorry boys, but I have plans tonight." Not a second later, my palm slams against the nose of the man closest to me. While he clutches it, attempting to stop the bleeding, I throw my flattened hand towards the others' throat. He blocks, good for him. But that doesn't stop me from throwing my other fist in his ribs, successfully earning a loud 'crack'. He doubles over, giving me the perfect opportunity to grab the back of his head, pulling it straight into my knee. He falls to the ground unconscious.

"You little bitch!" I hear the other one growl behind me. He lunges towards me but I quickly move out of his way, throwing him to the ground in the process. I grab the handgun from the man on the floor's belt and point it at Mr. Rude who is currently glaring at me, hand still holding his nose.

"Look," I start, "You can either end up unconscious like your friend over here, or I can let you go. You'll go back to Bane and tell him I'm going out tonight to take care of some things. What's it gonna be?" He says nothing, but I take his scrambling to the door as him choosing option two. "Oh, and tell him if he needs to see me, he can come get me himself. Next time, his lackeys won't be so lucky." If there was one thing I didn't like, it was people I didn't know in my home, and I'll be damned if I let any more brutes slam my front door open. "Don't forget your friend." I remind him with a sickly sweet smile. The man grabs his fellow brother and swings him up over his shoulder, opens the door and walks out, slamming it behind him. I close my eyes in frustration and check the time again. 10:42 pm. About time I got ready for tonight. I'd already done pretty good work around the house. I'd managed to clean my entire kitchen and living room, as well as the upstairs bathroom. The shower however, was beyond help.

"Thank you Bane." I say sarcastically, and head to my room.

By the time 11:30pm rolls around, I'm giving myself a once over in my full length mirror. Not bad for a girl who's been locked up for the past three years, in my opinion. My black hair has dried with a slight wave and falls carelessly around my shoulders and upper back. The black dress I'm wearing hugs my body in a way that takes me back to the good old days of worry-free teenage parties. The soft fabric falls just enough inches below my ass for me to not have to keep pulling it down all night, a fact I will surely end up appreciating later. I take a deep breath, my eyes falling on my cleavage. God damn, I have missed push up bras. The dress leaves little to the imagination when it comes to my breasts, not necessarily how I like it, but very necessary for what I have in mind tonight. I pull on my too-tall black heels, grab my purse, and make my way to the garage, fingers crossed. I only stumble twice on my way there, at which I let out an irritated groan. Hopefully walking in heels is like riding a bike. As I flip the switch to the garage light, I let out an excited squeal. Sure enough, parked in the middle is my blood red Jeep Rubicon.

"Oh Baby, I've missed you" I whisper, settling in the familiar but cold leather of the driver's seat. I rub the steering wheel affectionately and start her up. Next thing I know, I'm pulling out of the driveway driving much too fast. I reach over and open the glove compartment while still trying to keep my eyes on the road. My hand pushes past a few CD cases, a stack of papers, and a phone charger until my fingers feel the cool touch of my favorite pocketknife. I can't help the smile that quickly finds its place on my face. I grab it and close the compartment. I look at the dusty metal weapon. It's got a few nicks in it, but overall, it's a dependable knife and most importantly, it's sharp.

"You're gonna come in handy tonight." I say as I slip it between my breasts, managing to completely conceal it, thanks to my handy dandy Victoria's Secret bra. I can feel the excitement bubbling up in my stomach. I tip my head back and enjoy the butterflies. I have been waiting for tonight for three years now.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Well the 3 reviews came faster than expected, so as promised, the next chapter is here!**

**Disclaimer: I own only Anastasia **

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The bass heavy music floods my ears and I throw my hands up in the middle of the crowd. The Midnight Shadow is one of the most popular clubs in the high-end part of Gotham. My eyeliner-rimmed eyes look around the huge club. There are cages in the four corners, with girls in too little clothing dancing around in them. I laugh at the sight of men surrounding those cages, entranced by the GoGo dancers' fluid bodies. The current song quickly fades into a new one with a faster rhythm. To accommodate, I move my hips faster from side to side. I whip my hair around my face, making sure to keep it there. I've positioned myself so I'm conveniently in view of the VIP lounge. I peek through my bangs and sure enough, I see him, sitting with a glass of whiskey in hand. He's looking straight at me. I give him a flirty smirk and put extra effort into moving my body to the music. I do this for him specifically and he knows it. When he gets up from his seat and heads to the dance floor, his eyes don't stray from my curves. Suddenly his hands are all over me and our bodies are pressed so close together I'm afraid he'll feel the knife hidden in my dress. But he doesn't, so I pull him deeper into the crowd, until we're in the dead center of the sweaty mass. I keep my face down; it just wouldn't do if he recognized me before I was ready for him to. I twist my body around so my back is against his chest, and he takes that as an invitation for him to practically stick his dick in my panties. I hold back a gag. I'm sure countless girls would be overjoyed dancing with him, disgustingly enough.

Nicholas Keel. He's handsome for being 32, he's also filthy rich. Due partly from inheritance, but mostly from his drug smuggling business. His hands are large, adorned with several huge gold rings that clink together every so often, and at the moment, they're roaming my thighs. I have to fight back the urge to rip them off my body and slam the back of my head into his nose; I know that would spoil my fun. I run one of my hands along my neck, down to my cleavage. A sexy gesture for him, but the intention is much less innocent, and he doesn't even notice me slip the knife from my ample cleavage. I smile with anticipation. I have day dreamed of this moment for a long time. I turn back, facing him, and wrap my whole arm around his neck. In a second, I've not only flipped the knife open and held it to his neck, but I'm flicked the hair out of my face, giving him full view of me for the first time tonight. At first he doesn't notice my face, too distracted by the feeling of cold metal over his jugular. But then I whisper in his ear.

"Remember me?" His eyes scan my face, realization finally settling upon him. He tries to pull away, but my arm around his neck is stronger than it looks. He's not going anywhere.

"You're supposed to be locked up." Shock is laced in his voice. I enjoy watching his eyes widen in fear of me.

"I was. Got out." I shrug nonchalantly. "That's beside the point though."

"What is the point then?" Mr. Keel is finally putting his game face on. Wouldn't want to make this too easy on me!

"Good question. But a better one would be what made you think I wouldn't come after you?"

"You killed 13 of my men, you had it coming." He narrows his eyes at me, hoping to scare me off. That's very unlikely to happen, I think to myself.

"I did. It was a very good night for me. That was a warning Mr. Keel, which you obviously did not take to heart. And now, I'm going to send a message to every other criminal in this town who dares cross me."

"You're going to kill me then?" He asked me, laughing simultaneously. He's trying to play this situation down, but he and I both know he's trapped. His eyes flicker around the room, hoping to catch someone's attention.

"Yes. Not for your business though, it's important to me that you understand that. I don't care what you do with your illegal drugs. We do what we need to be on top. But when you ratted me out to the police and got me sent to Arkham, well, that's when it got personal. And I don't take kindly to threats. It's like I always say, eat or be eaten. And I am hungry tonight." In the split second that follows, the blade that was previously against his neck is now inches deep, spilling warm blood all over his crisp suit. I let go of him and he drops like a stone. I smirk; no one's even noticed our little encounter. Drunk dancers in nightclubs can be so oblivious. I waste no time before heading out, a satisfied smile playing on my glossed lips. It's only when I reach the exit that I hear a high pitch shriek. I chuckle and step into the cold night, my reliable knife tucked away once more.

My victory is short lived. Walking back to my car, I'm ambushed my 3 men, previously hidden in a dark alley. A black bag is pulled over my head and in an instant I'm thrown into a van. I kick my legs out to no avail, but I don't scream. I never scream. Before I can even sit up, my wrists are pulled behind my back and restrained with zip ties. I kick my leg out once more, my heel successfully hitting someone, earning me a gun pressed to my head. It stills me instantly.

"Don't fucking move or I swear I'll kill you!" It's a man's voice. A very angry voice. I almost want to roll my eyes. You're not going to shoot me, I want to tell him, obviously there's a purpose to kidnapping me. Killing me now would be a waste. But I bite my tongue instead. Seems like I was in for a long night.

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	6. Chapter 6

**I'm very happy with having already 13 reviews :D That's pretty good for me. But! I'd like to reach 18 before I put out the next chapter. I know that's all of 5, but I'm sure you guys can handle it. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia**

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I feel the skin on my knees shred as I'm pushed down by a hand on my shoulder. I really am not wearing the appropriate attire for a kidnapping, especially not for one that sounds like it's happening in a freaking underground cave. Wait a second, I think to myself. Underground cave with water sounds in the background?

"Bane!" I snarl. I am absolutely livid. If they don't cut my wrists free and take the bag over my head off in the next 2 minutes, I'm going to snap.

"Two of my men inform me you did not react kindly to my invitation." I can hear the anger in his voice. He's not far from me, but enough that I'm not too worried about him hitting me. Yet.

"Well, there's this thing about invitations. Normally, you're allowed to reject them." I respond snidely. I don't even hear him take a single step before I feel his oversized hand around my neck, lifting me up to my feet and then some. With his other hand he removes the bag from my head, sending my hair flying all over the place. His blue yet somewhat green eyes burn into mine as he removes the jet black strands from my face. His skin leaves a trail of heat on my forehead and cheeks. I feel my lungs constrict. I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until I shakily exhale. I'm about to open my mouth to say something, but his hand squeezes my throat and halts me before I get the chance to utter a single word.

"When I send for you, you come." Bane commands, almost as if he was talking to a child.

"You think just because you broke me out of Arkham that gives you power over me?"

"Of course not. I have power over you because I could snap your neck in two right now." I don't respond, because I know he's right. This situation can't end well for me. Bane by himself, I could probably handle. But with over a dozen armed men around us, I know I'm screwed if I don't play his game.

"What do you want?" I ask him. My hand reaches up and latches on to his wrist in an attempt to loosen him off my neck. No such luck. He smirks at my question and without warning lets go of my throat, almost causing me to fall back to the ground.

"Release her hands. Come with me Anastasia." He commands as he turns and walks away. I look over my shoulder and the man I jabbed with my heel earlier steps forward with a knife. I can tell it's him because he's the only one glaring at me, the others just seem mildly curious. He roughly sticks the knife between my wrists and pulls up hard, successfully cutting the zip tie off, but also nicking my wrist with the blade in the process. I inhale sharply. The pain is enough to make my stomach churn. I'm suddenly filled with the anger I had lost to fear when Bane grabbed me. The asshole doesn't even see me coming when I throw my clenched fist upwards into his jaw. He falls to the ground in an instant. I'm amused by the fact that none of the other men make a move to help him or stop me.

"Why exactly are you so violent to my men?" Bane asks me. I'd forgotten I was supposed to follow him, oops.

"He did it on purpose." I respond, lifting my bleeding wrist for him to see. As Bane closes his eyes in irritation, I can practically see the thought '_god, this woman is a child_' running through his mind.

"Follow." His voice is stern and threatening. For once, I do as I'm told.

I'm guessing this is Bane's room. It's got a large bed that looks like it's caving in in the middle, a desk, and that's it.

"Let's discuss your options." I can hear the sarcasm in his voice. Options? My eyebrows rise in surprise and skepticism.

"I hadn't realized I had any." He senses my apprehension.

"You don't." There's the Bane I'd heard all those rumors about. I was starting to think he was losing his edge. "But," He starts, "You can choose to do what I say in the comfort of your home, or from the much less pleasant cells here."

"I'm having trouble understanding the situation."

"It seems like a simple choice to me."

"Not about the choice. The situation. You're not the sort of man to give people choices. You intimidate them into submission and break them until they have no choice but to obey you. You break people."

"That is accurate." His voice is stone cold as his eyes bore into mine. A shiver runs up my spine. I'm not sure if it's his size, voice, or threats that unsettle me, but I know two things. I can't stay here with him, and there's something he wants from me, for which I have to be alive and kicking.

"Then why am I not broken yet?" The second that question exits my mouth, I regret it. He advances quickly across the room towards me and backs me up against the harsh stone wall. I am stuck between a Bane and a hard place. I swallow hard and keep my eyes staring at his chest, rather than his eyes. From the pit of my stomach, I'm caught off guard by the urge to reach out and touch him. Touch his neck, arms, chest, and face. I almost want to slap myself at that moment. Anastasia Rose Delcourt! I scream to myself. Just because I've been locked up for three years that does not justify letting my hormones take over right now! Maybe if this was anyone other than Bane, a sexual approach might work out for me. But this is _Bane_. Does this guy even feel those kinds of emotions? I'm snapped out of my thoughts be his fingers under my chin, pulling my face up to meet his gaze. His eyes burn and I desperately want to look away. But I don't, I can't.

"Would you like me to break you?" It doesn't sound like a threat. No, it's softer, though not anywhere close to comforting. I can't seem to swallow the damn lump in my throat. _Touch_, my subconscious urges me. I can't focus on anything, just the heat coming off his body and onto mine and with a sudden inexplicable stupidity, I reach my fingertips out towards him. I see his eyes snap to my hand, then back to my face. I can't explain the emotion there. It almost seems like he's daring me to touch him. What can I say; I've always been up for a challenge.


	7. Chapter 7

**Yes, yes I know, super tiny chapter. To be fair, we haven't reached the 18 reviews I was hoping to get before updating again. But I really wanted to give you guys a little taste of next chapter, which I promise will be a great one! So let's get those reviews in!**

**Disclaimer: I own only Anastasia**

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His skin is so smooth, I think to myself as I watch my hand glide from his neck to shoulder. My senses are overloaded by this man. The soft but firm touch of his skin, the sharp inhalation I hear from his mask, the heat that seems to roll off his body. He leans closer to me, leaving mere centimeters between our bodies. From what I can see, his eyes are closed, which I can't help but be thankful for. I practically jump from surprise when his right hand settles itself against me neck. I don't dare move a muscle. I try to focus on the robotic breathing of his mask echoes in my ear, but can't help being distracted when his hand starts traveling. At first, his hand envelopes my shoulder. I still cannot get over how large his is; my entire shoulder fitting in his palm. He continues south, grazing his fingers over my breasts. I squirm and breathe deeper, resting my forehead on his chest. And finally, his hand settles on my hip, grabbing it roughly. God, I_ want_ him. So much that by the time I notice his left hand reaching into his pocket, he's already jabbed the needle into my upper thigh. I let out a loud, pained gasp and look up at him. Those damn blue emotionless eyes stare back at me. My head suddenly starts spinning. My nails claw at Bane's neck in an attempt to keep myself steady, but to no avail.

"What the fu-" I drop and black out in a matter of seconds.

It only takes Anastasia 3 seconds before she collapses, and I catch her before the unforgiving ground does. The syringe makes a sickening sound as I pull it out of her flesh and drop it. The girl in my arms is much too light to be healthy, but I suppose Arkham is to blame for that. Her thin eyebrows are still knotted together from confusion, a turn of events she was not expecting. She is easily carried to one of our empty cells, and laid on the small bed. Now handcuffed to the headboard I positioned at the end of the cot a chair, where I will wait for her to wake up. It should not take long. The drug was potent, but there was not too much of it. I'm unsure of the angle she was trying to take when she touched me, but I am excited to play this mind game with her.

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**Review! Or no super awesome chapter 8. And yes, that's a direct threat! :]**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay! Here is chapter 8. I don't think it's as epic as I meant it it be, mostly because I was going to write more but I got too tired tonight. and instead of waiting for tomorrow to finish it, I'd just post this part. Now, as a warning, This week is finals week, so hopefully I'll be too busy studying to write much. But I promise my next update by next weekend. And finally, I did not proof-read this chapter. I apologize for any errors in advance. I am simply too tired and lazy right now. I put a lot of work into this though, so PLEASE review to let me know how I'm doing. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own only Anastasia **

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My head has been hit by a fucking train, and the ringing in my ear is not helping any. What the hell happened? Bane…I was going to murder this guy. I attempt to brush my hair out of my face, but my hand is held back, restrained by some invisible force. I frown and try to open my eyes. It feels like hours before they're able to adjust to the light. But when they do adjust, I notice the handcuffs pinning both my wrists to the bed. I pull at them hard, but only end up digging the metal further into my skin.

"Good morning." Bane. There he is, just sitting at the end of the bed looking at me like he didn't just drug me into submission. I want to scream at him so bad, but my throat is a freaking desert.

"You know, if you wanted to cop a feel, you could have just asked. I'm not a huge fan of date rape." My voice sounds foreign, but the dry sense of humor I recognize. Bane smirks, but I know jokes won't get me out of this situation. What is this guy's deal? What does he want from me?

"Judging from your behavior earlier, I'd say I wouldn't have to use any type of drug for that." Well, that's embarrassing.

"Well I don't think that'll be a problem for you anymore." I glare, and he raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. I was stupid to think this man would be interested in that sort of…human interacting. Oh how Arkham has softened me up. But no more! I vow that from this moment on, the old Anastasia is back. This meant not being distracted by a man's body. No more sparing people just because of the man they worked for. No more being afraid of Bane. But to put all these promises into action, I'd have to actually get out of here in one piece.

"So, are you going to tell me why I'm in handcuffs?" Bane's constant silence unnerves me to no end.

"I have been lenient with you. It's unlike me. I've decided to treat you how I treat all the tools in my plans for Gotham."

"You're the tool…" I whisper under my breath. I'm fairly sure he doesn't hear me, because I can still breathe, so I continue. "That doesn't really work for me. I have my own business to attend to."

"Yes, the man you killed in the club?" He was keeping tabs on me as well? Fantastic. "Who was he?" I really do not want to tell him. But at the moment, I feel like I have no choice, and to get out of here I know I'll have to play along.

"Nicholas Keel. He's the reason I got sent to Arkham." I stop there, hoping that'll be enough information for him. I can tell from the part of his face I can actually see that he's expecting me to go on. After an aggravated sign of defeat, I go on. "He somehow managed to catch me in the middle of a robbery. Next thing I know I'm tied up in front of a police station with a folder in my lap. The folder had more than enough information for the police to put in custody until they found actual evidence. Thankfully, that stunt I pulled at a bar a couple of days before the kidnapping," I stop to explain, but then I realize he probably already knows about it. "Well, it was enough to get me sent to Arkham and not prison."

"So you killed him."

"I did. As a message to everyone else that was involved in taking me down. I'm coming for them too."

"Everyone?"

"Yea. At first I thought it was just him, but while I was locked up I got to thinking. Nicholas Keel is a thug; he's not smart enough to plan a kidnapping in the middle of a robbery. Especially not when it's me we're talking about. I'm good, I cover my tracks. The man who owned the house I was in, he was in on it. Made sure there was enough publicity about the ridiculously huge diamond he had recently acquired so that I'd hear about it. Marcus Hopkins. He's next on my list. Then the guys that worked for him that shot me with a freaking dart gun and dropped in off in front of the police station. That's a total of 4 more guys."

"I'm not sure you'll get any killing done from here," He almost sounds amused, taunting even, "but good luck." He moves to get up and for a second I'm worried he'll physically incapacitate me to be sure I don't go anywhere. But he simply looks me over once more and exits the cell. Relief floods my body and my mind goes into overdrive to try and figure out a way out. It's only then that I realize the cut on my wrist had be cleaned and wrapped in gauze. Aw…psycho, but caring Bane. How lovely, I think bitterly.

I am parched. My mouth is about to dissolve into dust, I'm sure. I have been here for at least 4 hours now. My arms are sore, I'm hungry, and most of all bored.

"Hey! Whoever is out there, some water for the lady would be appreciated!" I know there is a man at the entrance of my cell. I have been glaring at his shadow for a long time now, and actually feel cocky that I have my own personal guard. I try to sound nice, maybe that'll increase my chances of actually getting water, but I know it still comes out kind of bitchy. Either way, it doesn't work. I slump back against the lumpy, scratchy pillow and close my eyes.

"Quit you're whining, being thirsty is the least of your worries." The young man at the entrance unlocks the door with a large black key, that he places in his front right pocket. He also holds a water bottle. Thankfully, this is not the same man I kicked earlier. Okay Anastasia, I think to myself, it's game time. My tight black dress has ridden up a lot over this whole ordeal and it now reveals several inches of my simple black panties. Perfect. I turn my body to the side to try and face him, arching my back and pushing my breasts outward in the process. The face I wear is a fake one. The sweet innocent smile only adds to my wide but obviously grateful eyes, and with a small shy smile, I thank the man.

"Thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means to me." He's standing over me by the bed now, and for a second I see him wonder if he should uncuff me. Lucky for Bane, he's not that stupid. He squats and pulls the cap off.

"Open your mouth." He tells me. I see his eyes briefly run over my body. I bet he doesn't get to interact with girls very often and probably not ones half undressed.

"What's your name?" I ask him gently. I need to show him I'm hardly a threat, and that if I tried to escape, he'd have no problem restraining me.

"Ryan. Open your mouth." He repeats. Ok, no small talk them. I lick my lips, which I know he noticed by his hard swallowing, and open them slightly. He puts the bottle closer to my lips.

"Wider." I giggle quietly and bite my lip, making sure my flirty smirk is apparent before following his order. Slowly, he tips the bottle over and pours the much appreciated water in my mouth. In an instant, my mouth is rehydrated and alive again. I let out a pleasurable groan of satisfaction.

"God that's amazing. More please." I make eye contact with him, his brown eyes caught in my gaze. Not breaking the stare, I open my mouth wide again, amused when he clears his throat and repeats the process, but this time he falters, spilling some was down my neck. A huge part of me is irritated. Seriously? You can't even pour water in my mouth without spilling some and you come in handy to freaking Bane? But I don't focus on my annoyance, because I know this is only helping my cause. I tip my head back, exposing my now wet, and cold, neck.

"Oops, could you get that for me Ryan?" I can't believe he's actually buying this. Men are dumber than I remember them being. I have to admit though, when he reaches over with his mouth to lick the drops off my neck, I'm caught off guard by his boldness. I feel his tongue on my skin and let out a sigh close to his ear, silently urging him on. A groan escapes me when he bites down. I mentally shake myself, no time for actual pleasure.

"Ryan, Sweety? I need a favor." He pulls away and I can instantly see he's put his guard back up, be he doesn't leave or say anything.

"This is kind of embarrassing, but these panties have been riding up my ass for hours now. Could you maybe take them off for me?" My face is hopeful, and his eyes widen at the request, but he is more than willing to oblige me. In fact, he's snapped right back into his previous, more playful, mood. He shimmies down the bed and settles himself between my legs, looking up at me. I bite my lip again and nod. At first his touch is tentative, but once his fingers grab the hem of the thin material, he yanks them down my legs and off me. His eyes don't look away from my exposed nether region. I mentally roll my eyes at him. Men.

Dear Ryan does not even have time to approach me when my legs shoot up and my thighs grab around his neck. I pull all my strength and energy into tighten my muscles and cutting off his air supply. He does not utter a single sound, just weakly pounds at my legs in an attempt to pry me off. You have a gun in your belt, dumbass. The next minute in crucial. It can either go very right, or very wrong. But things seem to be going in my favor at the moment, and sure enough, he soon passes out on top of my bed. I waste no time congratulating myself before I flip him onto his back. I kick my heels off next and with extreme concentration, I slip my foot into his pocket. It takes me a minute or two before getting the right angle and grabbing the key with my toes. I pull it out, its shiny black metal smiling back at me. I let out a shaky breath and in a painful twist of my body, manage to transfer that key from my foot to my mouth. I teeth clamp onto the cool surface and next I turn to face my right handcuff. I'm glad to find that by pulling my hand as close to me as possible, and extending my neck as far as possible, the key and lock of my wrist touch. Too bad the sudden cramp in my jaw forces me to pull back and take a second. I use my tongue to reposition the key and try again. I'm almost shocked when the key slides into the lock. Turning it in the lock is a different story. My neck manages to twist to an uncomfortable angle and I can tell I'm so close to hearing that 'click' I want to hear so desperately. So instead of turning my head more, I add turning my wrist to the mix. The cuff digs into my wrist, a biting pain echoing up through my hand. I quietly whimper as blood falls to the mattress, but keep turning it regardless.

'Click'. Finally! My right hand is loss. I fill my lungs with air, quickly mentally pat myself on the back, and then back to work. I know I'm nowhere close to getting out of here yet. I unlock my left wrist and jump up from the bed. My legs are a bit wobbly, but I can manage.

"Thanks Ryan." I throw the key at his face and silently get closer to the cell door. There's practically no one here, only a few men sitting around on the other side of the huge sewer room. I think for a second, and then it hits me. I turn back to Ryan and smile. He's been such a huge help. I quickly pull his pants and jacket off and use them to replace my dress. I make sure not to forget the gun he should have used on me. However, I almost forget the shoes. Being barefoot or wearing high heels would most likely be a huge give-away. The black combat boots are much too big. I know if at any point I need to run, I'll have to take them off, but for now they'll do just fine. I discretely open the cell door, grateful for the lack of squeaking of its hinges, trying to recognize which way I came from. The tunnel I know for sure that leads outside is on the other side of the room, near the two men. So I go for the more sketchy option of the tunnel right at the left of my cell entrance. Surely, there isn't only one way out. I'm not spotted on my way into said tunnel, and as soon as I'm out of the main room, I start walking faster. It's dark and wet and cold, but I don't hesitate for a second. One or two minutes into my escape, I hear two men coming my way. I tuck my black hair into the hood of my new jacket and relax my steps. The idiots don't even notice me; they're too busy discussing some event at the stock exchange. Once I can't hear them anymore, I once again quicken my pace.

The tunnel seems endless, and just as I'm about to turn back and try to find another way out, I finally see what I've been looking for. To my right, there is a ladder that leads to a circular cover. I kick off my boots, knowing I'll never be able to climb with them on and grab the bars, propelling myself upwards. The steps are cold and harsh against my feet, reminding me I should have taken that man's socks too. I throw that thoughts aside instantly. I've already taken his dignity, what more can a girl want? I've finally reached the top. I mentally cross my fingers as I push up with all my might. Sure enough, I've ended up in the middle of a street I don't recognize. But it's freedom nonetheless. I'm not stupid enough to linger, I simply replace the lid and book it. The puddles I run through slash around me, and I can feel every little pebble dig itself into the flesh of my feet, but I do not stop. The cramp in my side does not stop me, and neither does the awkward stare of several passerbys. I refuse to stop until I recognize where I am.

It feels like eternity when I spot up ahead a neon sign that reads 'Sonic' with the 'C' burnt out. I could cry with joy, but I refrain. I would know that Sonic anywhere. I veer right onto Husband Street and slow from a sprint to a slow jog. I have never been more thankful for street lights in my life. Tonight felt particularly dark with no moon in sight. The cramp in my side has intensified and forces me to stop and catch my breath. My lungs cannot get enough air, and for a second I think I might throw up. But I refuse to give Bane the satisfaction, and manage to keep my stomach's content where they should be. About 10 minutes later I continue on my way, this time just walking.

I have no idea what time it is when I finally reach the familiar driveway of my home. I am exhausted, cold, dirty, and starving. At this point, I'm not sure how I'm even still standing up, but I thank the gods I am. I pull my sore legs up the porch steps and grab the doorknob of my front door. I don't even turn it yet; I simply just rest my forehead against the dark red wood and close my eyes. I could probably fall asleep here I wanted to. With the last bit of energy I have left, I pull the door open. Part of me knows this is the first place they'll look when they realize I've escaped, if they haven't already. However, the more tired part of me does not give a shit. I slam the door behind me and practically crawl to my bedroom. It's so dark I can't see anything. I'm tempted to not even bother taking my clothes off or anything, to simply just collapse on my bed, but instincts tell me to do so anyways. I flick the light on and before I even know what's happening, I have the gun I stole pulled on Bane, who is casually sitting on my bed, facing me.

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**PLEASE don't forget to review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Well, not too much happens here. Mostly just a filler/transition chapter. But it's the best I could do in the middle of finals week! So deal with it :] I got a total of 4 reviews for chapter 8, and though I extremely thankful to those individuals, I was hoping to get a little more than that. So now is your chance to redeem yourselves! Even if you didn't like the chapter, constructive criticism is always welcome. Even if it's just 'good chapter' or 'update soon', I'm always glad to get those review alert emails so don't be shy! Anyways, here's chapter 9, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia**

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"Well look who has decided to join us-"Anastasia didn't get Bane finish his sentence before firing her gun, the bullet passing just inches from his face. The gunshot echoed between them. Bane couldn't help but be surprised. She was being very rash, but she did have excellent aim. He'd been able to feel the air the bullet displaced against the part of his cheek exposed from his mask.

"You," She started, eyes filled to the brim with rage, "You shut the _fuck_ up. Or I swear to God I will empty this gun inside your head and chest." Her lips were pulled in a tight line, every muscle of her body at attention. Anastasia couldn't help but be silently surprised at how she was still standing up, let alone shooting a gun at Bane.

"Why don't you kill me then?" Bane tilted his head slightly to the left, curious. The look in her eyes told him that she desperately wanted to get him out of her life. So why didn't she pull the trigger?

"Trust me; I would if I didn't think every single one of your men would be at my door in the morning trying to kill me." They both knew she was right. "Besides, your corpse would land on my bed and I don't have the strength to move you." Bane raised an eyebrow. Enraged, yet still cracking jokes. She really was a fascinating woman. But enough small talk, it was time to get to business. Planting his hands on his thighs, he lifted himself up from her too-soft mattress. At least, that was his plan right up until he felt another bullet graze his arm, just enough to splatter blood on her already red covers.

"Sit the fuck down Bane." She sure liked to swear a lot when she was angry, he noticed. His arm stung, but the pain was nothing, and he knew she wasn't trying to cause his pain. It was a warning shot, and it had worked. He sat back down. Bane was strong, massive in size, and fast. Most importantly, he was smart and he knew if she wanted to, he'd have a bullet in his head faster than he'd be able to reach her. He waited for Anastasia to tell him what she wanted of him at this point, but she continued to glare instead. He was the one to break the silence.

"You can imagine my surprise when I walked into your cell to find one of my men passed out, half naked and holding you undergarments." Anastasia saw the anger flutter across his face, but she knew at that moment he was more angry with his soldier than with her.

"Yea, you should really let you men out more often. The guy couldn't pour water in my mouth without getting a hard on." Bane noted she sounded bitter. And yet, despite the obvious overload of anger and exhaustion, the gun never wavered.

"I am very impressed with your escape." Anastasia's eyebrows practically hit the ceiling. Had he wanted her to escape? Or was he genuinely impressed, thinking she was too weak to pull something like that off?

"Yea, I'm sure you are." Her voice was laced with skepticism,

"I would like to train you." Bane sat calmly on her bed. He could tell his request came as a surprise to the scarred, black-haired girl that stood before him. But it was true nonetheless. He knew he could forge her into a powerful weapon that might very well come in handy to him.

"Train me?" She trusted him as far as she could throw him. What was his angle?

"Yes, you have a lot to learn. You could be a very powerful woman." Anastasia couldn't help but notice his choice of word. Woman. Not girl, woman. It was nice to know she wasn't a child to him. Perhaps it would even come in hany.

"Bane, if you had anything to teach me, I'd be dead by now." Suddenly, Bane was furious with her. How dare she imply they were at the same level of skill? How dare she imply that she was as strong, fast, and smart as him?

"Put the gun down." It was a silly request. She was a smart girl, and Bane knew she wouldn't be stupid enough to put it down.

"I'm not an idiot bane."

"So what do you suggest we do? You've told me to sit down and you won't put the gun down. Shall we small talk until the morning?" The mention of morning was practically enough to knock Anastasia out at that moment. How was she going to get out of here? More and more often lately, she'd found herself having to go along with his plans, and it was getting very old. But nevertheless, the sighed in defeat, though not lowered the gun quite yet.

"You want to train me?" Anastasia had been bluffing; she knew she could learn from him. Her small size and speed had gotten her out of most fights, including ones with Bane, but it wouldn't be enough forever. And if she planned on eventually getting out of Bane's grips and leaving Gotham for good, she could handle a couple of weeks with him.

"Yes."

"What would that include exactly?"

"You will stay with me and three times a day, we will spar. I will teach you how to thrive in a fight, not just survive."

"Why?"

"Because a rare person like you deserves a chance to survive in this world."

"I've been doing just fine. And who are you to tell me what I do and don't deserve?" He didn't respond, so Anastasia went on. "Get out."

Neither of them moved, simply just looked at each other. "Get. Out." Anastasia repeated to him. And so Bane got up, and after a slow, almost dance-like, series of footstep to avoid turning their backs to one another, he was out her bedroom door with Anastasia in tow. After reaching the bottom of the stairs and the front door, Bane spoke up.

"I do hope you'll consider my offer." Mostly because if she didn't he would do everything in his power to kill her.

"I told you I have a few more things to take care of."

"Ah yes, the murders." Bane was reminded of her quest to get vengeance. It was impressive for a girl so small to be so threatening to thugs, and yet she managed.

"Yea. I'll come find you in a few days." He could hear the hesitation in her voice. Perhaps she expected him to not leave without a fight. All in due time, Bane thought to himself. There would be a time for fighting, and there would be a time for killing Anastasia, but today was not that day. And with that he headed back to his sewer of a home, where his top men waited to hear his underlying plan.

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**Review, or else! That's a direct order from Bane!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I know it took me forever to get around to writing this chapter. My only excuse is that winter vacation got the best of me! Now, throughout this chapter, I kind of switch back and forth between tenses and time and also POV. I tried to make it as clear as possible, but I'm sorry if it confuses anyone. Hope you like it, and don't forget to review!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia.**

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Unbelievably, Bane was respecting her privacy. For now, at least. She hadn't seen him or any of his men in two days, which had been much appreciated. It was nice getting back into old habits. Anastasia finally felt like herself again. With her first Bane-free day, she'd bought food and started keeping tabs on the 4 men she was planning on executing. She had decided on getting the 3 lower thugs out of the way before going for Marcus Hopkins, knowing he would be the real challenge. It had only taken a few hours of internet hacking to find their location. Thankfully, they all still worked together. If Anastasia was lucky, this would be a 'three birds, one stone' kind of deal. Last night, she had gone out to one of the bars in the shitty part of town, where the most well-known criminals hung around.

_*The night before*_

The scarlet red dress clings to her like a second skin, but being in the middle of a sensitive conversation with Aaron Harper, she keeps herself from fidgeting. Aaron Harper is a very unattractive man in his early 40's that smelt of beer and cigar smoke, and at the moment, his eyes are glued to her cleavage.

"So you were saying about the Blade Brothers?" Anastasia asks, mentally rolling her eyes at the pseudo name. During her and Mr. Harper's very unpleasant and rather long conversation, she'd learned a lot of things that would help her in her task. The 3 thugs went by the name of the Blade Brothers, though they weren't blood related. Apparently, they were really into knives, which was just dandy. Though she noticed they had traded in their knives for a tranquilizer gun the night they interrupted her robbery.

"Rumor is," Mr. Harper starts, severely intoxicated and slurring his words, "They're hitting some place tomorrow night." Anastasia lets out an exaggerated gasp from her blood red painted lips. She leans farther across the table, being sure to press her breasts closer together in the process.

"Really? Oh, do tell me all about it!" Her light blue eyes widen with almost childlike, but very fake, curiosity at the repulsive creature in front of her. Though she couldn't be sure his information would be reliable, it was the best lead she had at the moment.

And so the evening went on, the man spilled his knowledge to her more and more with every beer until she'd gotten everything she needed. Leaving had been a bit more difficult though.

"But Sweetheart, where you going? The night's just starting to get good!" The man said to her as he clutched her wrist after she had gotten up and started for the door. Anastasia's upper lip involuntarily curled back in disgust. She replied nothing as she calmly attempted to pry the man's grip from her arm. He was much stronger than he looked, she noted. The situation got slightly more serious as he shakily rose to his feet and took a step in her direction.

"Do yourself a favor Mr. Harper, just sit down and have another beer." Anastasia's voice was steady, but inside, she was prepping for a fight. Drunken men were not unfamiliar territory to her.

"You teasing little bitch." And with that statement, audibly laced with rage, he lunged for her.

The fight had been short and for the most part unimportant, though he had managed to bruise her wrist quite a bit. The man ended up in the back alley with several bruises on his face, courtesy of Anastasia. She hadn't truly been in danger that night, for one drunken man in a bar was basically the lowest level of threat possible to her, and the other men in the bar had regarded their fight as simply a noise disturbance, nothing worth paying attention to and certainly not worth intervening in.

_*Present Time*_

So there Anastasia stood. Well, more like crouched. She had arrived at this extravagant house over an hour ago and had been hiding in this bush ever since. It was now almost 3am. Part of her wanted to just call it off and go home, maybe take a hot bath, but the part of her fueled with vengeance kept her from doing so.

It seemed like an eternity passed before the 3 men showed up. Anastasia almost didn't notice them; they were all dressed in black and managed to not make a single sound. Her eyes narrowed in on their faces. Though all but their eyes were covered, she recognized one of them from the scar that crossed his right brow. One of the other two was missing a finger, also easily recognizable. Finally, the third had no distinct feature she could find, but from their pattern of pulling off robberies together, she was simply going to assume it was the man she was looking for. Within the next 3 minutes, they had picked the lock and quietly sunk inside the house, managing to disable any and all alarms. Anastasia smirked in a wicked way as she just as quietly snuck into the house as the thugs had.

_*Later That Night*_

It isn't until 5:30am that Anastasia stumbles into her home, blood dripping between the fingers that clutch the right side of her rib cage. Her labored breathing fills the empty house as she walks to the kitchen, using the walls as support. She knows there's a sewing kit under the sink, and when she drops to her knees in front of said cabinet, she wastes no time. Cans of cleaning product as well as sponges and gloves go flying behind her, but her movements get choppy and slurred half way through her search. Her arms drop to her side and she takes several deep breaths. Looking down at her wound, Anastasia clenches her eyes closed, thinking about her night. She hadn't counted on the 3 men being so good at fighting. She had relied too much on the element of surprise. And when the 9-fingered one managed to cut her with his knife, she hadn't planned on losing so much damn blood. A short snort escaped her lips and filled the kitchen with bitterness as she thought of the 3 men and the state she had left that house in. But it quickly turned into full blown laughter. She could not stop laughing.

_*Flashback To Earlier*_

The first man, the one with the scar had been easy to kill. One simple bullet to his back. The second one sprang into action in a fraction of a second, managing to throw his knife inches from her face. A clear miss. His right kneecap was next to go, and with that he crumpled to the floor, screaming in agony. Finally, mister 9-fingers was next. He was strong, which she hadn't expected. But she quickly realized this would not be an easy fight as his fist flew across her cheek with strong force. But her knee easily found his crotch, effectively incapacitating him long enough for her to slam her knee into his nose next. She however had not seen his arm swing back and slam into her other knee, bringing her to the floor as well with a cry of pain.

The fight had gone on for a while, and for most of it, their skills were neck and neck. She got a punch in, he got a kick in, she dodged, he rolled, and so on. But finally, she managed to push herself past the pain that seemed to be holding her back. She moved faster than she thought possible, landing blow after blow onto his face. When he seemed about to pass out, she got up and away from him. Walking over to her gun, which had been knocked to the side much too early in the fight for her liking, she picked it up and aimed it at his head. The man's brown eyes seemed to plead with her.

"Please, don't!" Anastasia frowned. Seriously? This man was begging for his life? Anyone who begged for their life didn't deserve to keep it. In her mind, if you wanted to live, you fought. You fought and you fought until you were dead, you simply didn't just give up. And obviously he had.

"Do you remember me?" She asked, hoping she wasn't beating the shit out of these guys for no reason.

"Yes…yes, you're that one girl we turned into the police." His voice quivered, and using his elbows and feet, he scrambled backwards, as if he could escape his fate.

"I am. And now I'm going to kill you for doing that." Anastasia's face was one of pure contentment. Finally, her well-deserved revenge. The man seemed as if he was about to say something, but as his mouth opened and sucked air in, a bullet traversed his skull. His body slumped to the ground, permanently this time. A slight choking noise could be heard from the corner of the room, where the kneecap guy was staring at Anastasia with wide and afraid eyes.

"You scared?" Anastasia asked the man, slowly stepping over the dead body in front of her and making her way to him.

"Yes." The man breathed out.

"I wasn't. Not when you shot me with tranquilizer. Not when I woke up in a prison cell. Not when they told me I'd be spending the rest of my life in Arkham. You know what that means?" He quickly shook his head at her. "It means I'm stronger than you. Which is exactly why I deserve to live and you don't." And with that, a third bullet was shot, though through a heart this time. It felt like a small weight had been lifted off Anastasia's shoulders.

But that feeling was short lived when she noticed the gash that adorned her ribcage. She frowned. When had that happened? Had two knives been thrown at the beginning, and she simply hadn't noticed the second one, or the pain that came with the injury? No, that couldn't be, she would have noticed. Her eyes snapped to the man she'd spent the majority of her time fighting. Sure enough, in his not yet cold but very dead hand, was a small bloodied pocket knife. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out when he had pulled that out, and when he had managed to cut her. How could she not notice? She vaguely thought of Bane, and how he'd told her he had a lot to teach her. She realized he'd been right.

Anastasia shook her head. This was no time to think of Bane and his lessons. She needed to get home and care to her wound, which at the moment was gushing blood. Pressing her palm to the cut and biting back the stinging sensation that arose, she headed out the house in a hurry. Suddenly, walking all the way over here seemed like a stupid idea, and she mentally kicked herself over and over again.

By the time her house came into view, she'd lost too much blood for her liking. The world was getting much too blurry. The thought that she was going to die flashed through her mind, but was quickly shoved out. There was no way Anastasia fucking Delcourt was going to die from something as simple as a cut to her ribs.

_*End Flashback*_

So far, it had been a calm night. The woman had left hours ago, but he and his partner had been instructed to stay at the house. And so, hours later, they found themselves sitting in the small compact care with fake plates, bored out of their minds. They'd contemplated what Bane wanted with this woman several time.

"Maybe he's in love." One suggested. That thought was enough to send them both into a frenzy of laughter.

"Maybe he needs her for his plan." The other one says after catching his breath. His friend shrugged, considering the possibility.

"Maybe. He hasn't mentioned her to any of us yet though." And with that there was no more talk of Bane's intention. They were not in a position to ask questions, especially not questions that had to do with Bane's orders. They simply obeyed.

It wasn't until the sun was about to come up that they saw the woman stumbling down the sidewalk. At first, they both leaned in closer to the window. Being parked several houses down for stealth definitely had its downfall at the moment.

"Is that her?" One asked, clearly not sure. The woman they had seen leave had been walking tall and confidently. This woman was hunched over and walking with a slight limp.

"She looks injured. What do we do? Call Bane? Do we help her?" They had no idea what to do in this situation. Bane had simply ordered them to watch her house. She could leave, but they were to stay at the house.

"Well, he did say to report any suspicious activity." The two soldiers' eyes met. Finally, the one in the driver's seat picked up the bulky Walkie-Talkie from the center console.

"The woman has returned to her home. She seems injured. What would you like us to do?" They both waited for instructions. Finally, after seconds that seemed like minutes, the familiar buzzing sound sounded, followed by Bane's artificial voice.

"Stay as you are."

"Yes sir." Though they obeyed, they were also confused. Why was she being watched if he didn't care that she was injured to the point where she might die? They'd expected him to tell them to go inside and keep her alive, but no such command was given. They continued watching the house, but with muscles tense this time. The front door had been left wide open after she stumbled inside. Silently, they were both hoping to see some kind of activity. A light turning on upstairs perhaps? No such luck. The house remained vacant-seeming.

The two faithful soldiers' eyes went wide once more when the familiar motorcycle turned the corner in their direction. Sure enough, they could recognize the huge outline of Bane, clad in his leather jacket and helmet. Their frowns deepened to the point of their muscles cramping, but they knew better than to move from their spot unless Bane specifically told them to. The loud motorcycle drove right past them and screeched to a stop in front of the woman's house.

Bane's steps were not hurried, but definitely determined as he stomped through the doorframe of Anastasia's home. His clear blue eyes followed the hand print shaped trail of blood into the kitchen where sure enough, he found her.

She was in a heap on the floor in front of an open cabinet, bleeding from her ribs and breathing shallowly.

"You don't have my permission to die quite yet Anastasia." His voice was stern, and seemed to wake Anastasia up from some kind of fuzzy sleep. Her eyes managed to open only slightly, taking him Bane's form in the middle of her kitchen. She would have frowned if she had the energy to. How did this man keep appearing in her home, and why was he here? Whatever the reason, she knew his timing was impeccable. She pulled together every single ounce of energy she had left and spoke.

"Save me…and I'll tell you everything…everything you want to…know about me." Her proposal seemed so strained and weak, so desperate for his help. He hadn't expected to see her so defenseless. But he found it interesting how she didn't plead him to save her. She offered something in return for his help. It wasn't a simple 'please save me', which seemed like the appropriate reaction in this situation. No, Anastasia wasn't that kind of person. She was stronger than that, too proud for that.

"Yes." That was all Bane responded to her, but relief flooded her body as her eyes closed once more and she floated back into the welcomed darkness.

* * *

*Anastasia's POV*

My ribs sting. The left side of my face feels swollen. My knee is also in pain. My muscles feel drained of any and all strength. Those are my first thoughts and my mind finally breaks through the cloudiness that surrounds my brain. I'm not quite ready to open my eyes just yet, almost afraid of what I'll find. It feels like I'm on an old, worn bed. It's a familiar feeling actually. I try to think of where I've felt this before, and when I finally realize why it's familiar, I mentally groan. I'm back in the clutches of Bane. Not only that, but I owe him my life. I'm not a huge fan of that thought. Suddenly, I remember that I've promised him whatever he wants to know about me. Awesome, I think bitterly. Though hopefully, if I'm lucky, he'll take the information he needs from me and let me be on my merry way. But I highly doubt that. Every since the first day we met, he's been trying to get me under his control. I've fought well, but I've failed to keep myself from getting involved with him. I'm now stuck with this beast of a man, who is planning something big, though I'm not quite sure exactly what yet, with Gotham. I push that thought out of my mind and try to focus on right now. I'm vaguely aware of the lack of handcuffs. So, I'm not being kept against my will this time? Or does he just assume I'll be too weak to escape? If he does, well he's probably right. I know I lost a lot of blood, too much.

"Anastasia," My name rolls off his tongue, well more like rolls through his mask. Normally, it would send shivers down my spine, but right now my body doesn't react. "Open your eyes." For once, I do as I'm told. Though the room is not well illuminated, it still takes me several seconds to adjust. I blink a few times before my eyes land on Bane. I say nothing to him, so he continues. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Yes." Unfortunately, I remember making you a promise I wish I hadn't, I think. But I bite my tongue and let him control the conversation's direction.

"Good. You will remain here until you recover from your injuries." He is as calm as always, his piercing blue eyes burning through mine.

"And then what?" I'm not sure I want to hear the answer.

"We will cross that bridge when we get there." I smirk. He doesn't even know what to do with me. I can tell this isn't a situation where he just wants to keep me in the dark. No, he actually isn't sure what he's going to do with me. Maybe kill me, maybe keep me around?

"I'd like to stop this game Bane. Are you going to kill me? Train me? Let me go?" I'm not sure how long I've been asleep, but I've certainly got most of my stupidity back, though the strength to move seems to not have graced me with its presence yet. It only takes Bane two huge steps to reach the bed I'm lying limply on. I'm not afraid, not at the moment. If he wanted to kill me, he would not have saved me. It's safe to assume I'm safe until he starts prodding me for the information I assured him I would give for my survival. His hands are wrapped around the neckline of the vest he's wearing, effectively showing me how much upper body muscle he actually has. I swallow hard.

"Game? I assure you, the games have not begun." He crouches next to me, making us at the same eye level. His eyes are so fucking blue, and right now they're filled with an emotion I can't quite put my finger on. It almost seems like passion, but I know it's much, much darker than that. His huge palm catches me off guard as he rests it on my exposed neck. The warmth he radiates is very welcome, and I can't help but close my eyes and enjoy it. I feel his fingers travel down my neck and across my collarbone. This time, I do shiver.

"You're not afraid of me." It's not a question.

"Should I be?"

"Most women in your situation would be."

"I don't think like most women."

"And what do you think that is different at the moment?" My eyes open once more to look at his face. Curiosity is apparent there as his head tilts slightly to the left.

"My instincts towards you don't go into the survival mode direction." I admit to him.

"What direction do they go in then?" I mentally groan once more, he was seriously going to make me admit this out loud.

"My instincts tell me to," I pause hoping he'll stop me, but he doesn't, and I'm forced to continue, "to mate with you." Bane doesn't bother trying to stop his eyebrows from rising as far as they'll go. I audibly sigh, knowing that by admitting this to him, I've given him even more power over me.

"Is that so?" The amusement in his voice is clear.

"Yes." I stare at him straight in the eyes. I won't show embarrassment or discomfort, and most definitely not weakness.

"And why is that?"

"You are the biggest, the strongest, and the smartest man in Gotham. Human instincts tell me to make offspring with you." I'm not complimenting him, and he knows it. They're simply just facts. Had our society been in the times where the concepts of natural selection and survival of the fittest were still ruling, Bane would have been at the very top of the food chain. He would have been the leader of all men around him, and the man to mate with. I simply can't help that my mind, and most importantly my uterus, seemed to have kept with this concepts, rather than work the way most people's nowadays did.

_*Third Person's POV*_

Bane was impressed. She was being honest, straightforward, and most importantly, she wasn't ashamed of what she was telling him. She wasn't blushing from her confession to him. In fact, it was as if she dared him to respond to her. He smiled behind his mask. As much as he had tried to fight it, he was absolutely enthralled with the woman in front of him.

* * *

**Well, that's chapter 10! Don't forget to review and tell me what you thought of it!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Here's chapter 11! Not too much action here, mostly just finding out more about Anastasia, but I hope you still like it! Please don't forget to review at the end, it means the world to me. Also, I know there's been patches of Anastasia's past thrown about in earlier chapters so at the end I'll give you a quick timeline of what we know so far so you can get up to speed if it's been confusing at all. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia.**

* * *

"Don't get excited Bane, I'm not _actually _trying to make babies with you. Thankfully, my brain is smart enough to override my libido." Anastasia pierced through the awkward silence that had followed her confession to him. She wasn't embarrassed, but she also didn't want him to think he had more power over her than he actually did. Though in this situation, he definitely had a decent amount of it. Bane's facial expression gave away none of his thoughts, though he did seem amused with her. _Glad I can entertain you_, Anastasia thought bitterly.

"I'm impressed with your honesty." That was the only thing Bane said to her at the moment.

"Great, cause that my goal." Sarcasm was laced with her words. But Bane understood why. Sarcasm and jokes for her were a defense mechanism. As soon as anyone got close to understanding, truly understanding, some aspect of her, she threw her walls straight up. Bane wanted to destroy those walls. He wanted to watch them crumble at his feet so you could see what they were hiding.

"Bane, why am I not wearing clothes?" Anastasia asked as she peeked under the thin piece of cloth that she assumed was supposed to be a blanket. Sure enough, the only article of clothing she was wearing was her black underwear. Her chest, on the other hand, was completely wrapped from her waist all the way up to the top of her breasts. The thought that Bane might have bandaged her naked torso shot a spark down her spine, but that idea was quickly discarded. No way Bane would take the time to care to her wounds, right? She was sure he had better things to do.

"Forgive me, but when saving your life, grabbing clean clothes was not my first instinct." Whoa, Anastasia thought, Bane was being sarcastic for once? He continued. "Both your pants and shirt were soaked in blood, and had to be removed when we evaluated your injuries."

"So what's the diagnostic Doc?" At that moment, Anastasia tried to sit up. She tried to pull her elbows up behind her and push her upper body up, but both her wound and Bane were not having it. His large, calloused hand placed itself on her shoulder and pushed the woman back into a laying position as the cut seared with pain.

"The laceration across your ribs is quite deep. One of my men had to stitch it closed. Your knee, though having no serious damage, is badly bruised. As for your face, there's only slight swelling. You will make a full recovery. First you must rest, and when your body's strength has been fully restored, we will start training." With that, the giant man rose to his feet and turned, heading for the room opening.

"I can't train yet Bane, I have one more target!" She yelled after him.

"From what I can see, your skills are not up to par to go after someone like Marcus Hopkins." Anastasia scowled, knowing he was right. Having been so badly injured from just 3 thugs was an embarrassment. "You will train, and when I deem you competent enough, you shall get your revenge." Her eye practically twitched at his demeaning comment, but before she could respond with some smartass comment, he had turned the corner and was out of sight.

_Anastasia's POV_

I let out a deep sigh of irritation and look back down at the bandages. There's some light seepage of blood over where I remember the cut being, but other than that they look clean, which is impressive considering these guys literally live in a cave. Finally, I look around at my surroundings. It's a small room, if you could even call it that. It's mostly just a hole in the wall. There's no door, no desk, no nightstand or anything like that. It's just an empty area with a small, crappy bed. I hope I wouldn't be confined here too long, cause I'd go absolutely batshit crazy.

Over the next few hours, time seems to slow to a crawl. Apart from a man bringing me some water and helping me drink it without spilling it all over myself, nothing had happened. I've examined every inch of stone in the room, counted how many stains there are on this blanket (13), and kept track of how many men passed by the opening of my new bedroom (27). I'm just about to build up the motivation to get up when I hear those oh so familiar heavy footsteps, far away at first, but getting louder. I mentally brace myself for whatever Bane has planned for me. Whatever it is, I seriously doubt I'll enjoy it.

"I see you're still awake." Bane points out. _No shit_, I want to say, _no human could possibly fall asleep on this fucking sad excuse for a mattress, which of course excludes you_. I bite my tongue.

"I'm not very likely to fall asleep in a place like this." I really do try my best to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but it's so damn hard around this man. That's when I notice what he's carrying. Some kind of fluid filled bottle, cotton balls and a roll of bandaging. I frown, not believing that he was actually going to help me care for my wound. With only 3 of his huge strides, he's next standing on the right side of the bed once more. Without a word, he slips an oversized hand between my shoulder and the bed and slowly helps me sit up. I let out a quiet hiss as the stitches pull from my slow, but still sudden, movement.

I'm shocked at how gentle Bane is being. His eyes focus on me as I try to get comfortable in a sitting position. _What a gentle giant_, I think to myself.

"Lift your arms up." He orders. I'm hesitant, not sure how willing I am to letting him unwrap my chest. Sure, sexually I want him, but this is a vulnerable situation, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with it quite yet. He notices my skepticism right away and suddenly speaks with a much sharper tone. "You're more than welcome to attempt to clean this by yourself Anastasia." We both know I wouldn't be able to get a good look at it to properly clean it, and the gash getting infected is the last thing I want right now. "Unless you'd prefer I ask one of my men to help you instead? Perhaps the man you tricked during your previous escape?" Now he's just taunting me, though I'm pretty sure he's bluffing. Surely that man was killed instantly for his lack of competence?

"No! No, that's fine." I lift my arms up immediately, unwilling to find out if he would actually let another men help me with this. My heartbeat picks up instantly as his fingers grab the end of the bandage and start unraveling it. I'm not sure where to look. At first my gaze falls upon the open entrance of the room, then the foot of my bed, until finally my eyes lock with Bane's. His hands don't falter a single time while he continues to peel the bandage from my torso, his eyes still locked with mine. I can't help but swallow hard. After what seems like an eternity, my chest is completely bare. I don't fail to notice the way his fingertips graze the underside of my breasts, or the way it makes me feel between my legs. Bane throws the soiled wrapping to the floor. He pulls his eyes away from me, snapping me out of some sort of trance, and observes the gash. I follow his gaze, and almost want to gasp. It looks terrible. The wound is angry, red, and swollen. Not to mention the thick black stitching makes it look like it's straight out of a horror movie.

"Worry not, it will heal quickly and cleanly." Bane reassures me, as if reading my mind, while he squeezes some kind of cleaning product onto cotton balls. "This will sting." He warns me only a second before pressing the cotton against my ribs. I gasp loudly this time, and bite down hard on my lower lip to keep the pain under control. He starts to dab around.

"You owe me answers." Really Bane? You want to do this now? Maybe he thinks the pain will loosen my lips. I guess we'll find out, since I'm in no position to refuse him.

"What would you like to know?" The muscles in my stomach tighten. I'm not sure if it's from the anticipation of our conversation, or the stinging sensation that seems to spread as he continues to disinfect. Either way, it's not pleasant.

"Why self-mutilate?" Bane's eyes flick to mine only for a second before turning back to my side. I'm not surprised that that is the first thing he asks, that's the first question most ask as well. I had hoped he would be more original. I sigh, quickly debating how much I should actually tell him.

"I was just a kid…" I start.

_Third Person POV_

Bane had thought about what questions he would ask her for a while. Although he had many, that one seemed to be the best place to start.

"Why self-mutilate?" He asked, keeping the curiosity out of his voice as much as possible. He knew she had somewhat addressed this when they'd first met, but he wanted more details. His blue eyes meet hers for only a second, but that's all the time he needs to see pain flash across her face. _From the wound or some distance memory?_ Bane wonders. At first, he thought she wouldn't answer him, being so private. But then he realized she was a woman of honor. She'd made him a deal, and she would follow through with it, despite her feelings about the topic of conversation.

"I was just a kid." Anastasia's head drops to look at her hands, intertwined in her lap. "Everyone kept telling me I was different, and weird. That I didn't belong. Other children, and adults too." She pauses, unsure of how to continue. Finally, she takes a deep breath. "When you get told something over and over again, you start to believe it. I just…" Another pause. "I just wanted to prove that I could bleed, that I could hurt, just like the rest of them. I'm not ashamed of my scars. I'm ashamed that I let the opinions of others bring me to it."

"How old were you?"

"I started when I was about 9." Then silence. Bane continued his helpful assault on her injury as Anastasia continued to pick at her cuticles. "Am I allowed to ask questions?" The question slips from her lips before she has a chance to think about it, and she mentally slaps herself. Bane doesn't say no right away however, as she had expected him to. Instead, he plays with the idea for a minute.

"One." He tells the bare-chested woman in front of him.

"Why do you wear the mask?" Bane looks up at her with his eyebrows raised, as if to ask 'that's the best you could come up with?'. Anastasia raises her eyebrows right back, facially replying 'as if yours was creative'.

"Without the mask, I would be in a lot of pain." Bane doesn't give away any more than that, unwilling to give her too much information that she could later use against him. She seems content enough with that for now anyways. His turn again. "Why did you emancipate yourself?" He found it extremely odd a child would willingly separate themselves from their family, especially when her parents weren't abusing or neglectful in any way.

"I didn't need them anymore." Anastasia answered, as if that answers was the most obvious thing in the world, and continued. "I find it ridiculous that nowadays, people will stay with their parents until age 18, 20, even after they turn 24 sometimes. We're the only species that depends so strongly on their parents for so long. It's embarrassing. So I got a steady paying job, and emancipated myself."

"What did they have to say about that?" Bane asked curiously.

"They understood." Anastasia replied affectionately. Bane could see a small, fond smile on her lips, obviously recalling some kind of distant memory. "They'd always accepted the fact that I was independent. When I told them, they said they'd been expecting it. They were always very supportive of me, and when the whole process was over with, they gave me my space and moved back to France with my blessing." With that last bit of information, Bane finished cleaning the wound and was about to bandage her back up. This time, he didn't even have to ask her to put her arms up. His eyes couldn't help but discretely roam over her breasts. Bane was not around women often, nor did he have any desire to be. But Anastasia was not simply a woman of Gotham. And her breasts, well they were very nice. Bane silently wished he could touch them. Not in a lustful way. He just wanted to feel the soft warm skin under his palm, her erect nipple push back against his fingertips. But he restrained himself, simply bandaging her back up, while not failing to notice he could feel her heart pounding against her chest.

"What did you mean when you said you were raised in Hell on earth?" Anastasia asked suddenly, not being able to contain herself. She was just so damn curious when it came to Bane's origins.

"I'm afraid I said only one question Anastasia." The pout that formed on her lips was cute, but not cute enough to sway the beast of a man that finished wrapping her torso. Though he was finished, he didn't make a move to get up and leave. Instead, he asked yet another question. "You told me you never killed on instinct, only when you felt threatened, correct?"

"Yes." Anastasia answered, unsure where this was going.

"I was told you walked into a bar and killed 13 men at age 21. Why?" When Bane asked that question, he had not expected her to laugh. Not in a light, happy way however. No, this was a wicked laughter, brought on by the thought of killing all those men.

"Those men were dealing cocaine to 11 year old kids." Anastasia's face got suddenly very serious at the uttering of that sentence. Bane was surprised, that was the last thing he had expected to hear.

"Although I'm all for the whole 'survival of the fittest' thing, they were just kids. They were 11 god damn years old. And those bastards were purposely dealing them coke. I'm all for kids taking responsibility for themselves at an early age, but cocaine? They didn't stand a chance. It wasn't fair. So I did a lot of parents a favor and got rid of every single asshole that had dealt drugs to any of those kids."

"I hadn't pictured you as the heroic type." Bane responded lightly, but slightly sarcastically.

"I'm not." Anastasia's voice was clipped, almost angry at the thought of being called a hero. "Those men didn't deserve to live."

"I agree." Both their gazes met in a heated stare. Anastasia was tired of giving up information about her past. She'd already told him more than she'd ever told anyone else, wasn't that enough yet? Bane seemed to sense her apprehension and threw her a bone.

"I was sent to spend my life in a prison called The Pit for the offenses of my father. I remained in that darkness well into my adult age, then escaped." Bane purposely didn't mention Talia, not willing to bring her into Anastasia's view just yet. But Anastasia wasn't stupid; she knew Bane wasn't telling her every important detail. She also figured the injury the mask helps with was caused in that pit. But she wouldn't push him, just as she hoped he wouldn't push her. She didn't verbally respond to his confession however. Her eyes did that for her, free of judgment. When she finally spoke, she decided to change the subject completely.

"I figured out what you're trying to figure out about me." Bane scoffs, highly doubting she had already figured it out. But he invited to her take a guess with a 'go ahead' hand gesture. "You're trying to figure out what makes me tick. What I fear, and how my instincts work deep down. Obviously, you're planning something big with Gotham. And I'm willing to bet that that something big is going to reduce its citizens to a mindset similar to mine. Which is why you want to fully understand how it works before that happens. So you can keep control of the city."

Bane was silent, shocked she'd been able to figure it out so quickly. She really was a smart woman.

"You never fail to impress, Anastasia." She wasn't sure if it was the compliment, or the way her name rolled off his tongue like thick honey, but she couldn't suppress the shiver that ran through her entire body.

"Thank you." She replied, unsure of what to say to him.

"Stay here and rest until one of my men or I come get you. Is that clear?" His voice was stern, and just a tad bit threatening.

"Yes Sir." Though Bane knew she'd called him sir with sarcasm, he did have to admit he liked the way it sounded coming from her. With a large smirk, he turned his back on the source of his persistent curiosity and returned to his room, where he continued to draw out his plan for Gotham.

* * *

**Ok, this here is her timeline:**

**-Age 9: Started self-mutilating**

**-Age 15: Emancipated herself**

**-Age 17: Shoots robber in her home, goes to Juvy**

**Gets out quickly, joins League Of Shadows for 3-4 months. (No time frame for this)**

**-Age 21: Shot 13 men in bar**

**-Age 21-24: Arkham Asylum**

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	12. Chapter 12

**Well here's chapter 12! Not much happens here either, but things are about to pick up, I promise.**

**Disclaimer: I own only Anastasia.**

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It was impossible to tell how long Anastasia had been lying in bed. With no watch or sun to keep track of time, it seemed like an eternity. It must have been at least 3 or 4 more hours, and finally, Anastasia got tired of waiting around in bed for Bane's orders. Getting her upper body to sit up straight was definitely a challenge. She could feel the pull of the stitched with every move she made. But thankfully, with some patience and a lot of effort, she'd managed to stand up. At first, the pain in her left knee was minimal, but the more weight she put on it, the greater that pain became. With a heavy limp, the woman made her way to the opening of the room, eyes roaming around. This place was even bigger than she remembered. She took note that she was on the third level, and that since the huge waterfall was to her right, than the exit route she'd escaped from before was directly under her, on the main level.

"What are you doing up? You're supposed to be resting." The gun-holding man in front of her asked, though not aggressively.

"I'm just hungry. And not tired. I can only stay in that bed for so long before I lose my mind." The man looked at her skeptically, sighed, and spoke.

"Go back in your room, I'll be there in a minute." And so she did. Sure enough, a minute or two later, the man came to her and threw a bundle of fabric at her. Anastasia did a little mental cheer as she unfolded the brown pants and white wife beater, and quickly pulled them on. The pants were a bit loose on her, but not enough to completely fall off. The shirt on the other hand was entirely too big, visibly showing her chest's wrapping through the arm holes. Despite this, she sure as hell wasn't complaining. "Come on." He ordered her gently to follow him. Anastasia came closer without questioning his intentions. He seemed nice enough. "The name's Barsad. I'm the one who stitched you up." With an arm lightly behind her back, he ushered her to the left and walked besides her limping form all the way to Bane's room.

"You couldn't have used a thicker stitching? This one's a little too subtle for my taste." Again with that sarcasm.

"Would you have preferred us leaving you to die in your kitchen?"

"Ask me again in a few weeks." At that, Barsad chuckled.

"You know, you shouldn't be walking on that knee."

"Well it didn't seem like anyone was going to come feed me, so I figured I had to go get some food myself." In a way, she was probably right. Bane hadn't given anyone any orders other than to bring her water once in a while. Finally, they reached Bane's room, which was closed off by a large wooden door.

Barsad simply knocked two short times against the wood, and then waited for his leader's response, as did Anastasia. Instead of ordering them in, as Anastasia had expected him to, the large plain door was pulled back roughly to reveal the giant mass of muscle that would soon be taking over Gotham.

"Anastasia is requesting to be fed." It was a simple and accurate statement, but she couldn't help but be offended by it. No, she was not _requesting_ to be fed. She wasn't a dog bringing Bane her bowl in hopes of receiving table scraps. This time, biting her tongue was not an option.

"Excuse me, but no. I'm not requesting shit. I'm telling you if you don't give me food, bad shit is going to start happening." Anastasia was definitely angry when she was hungry. She hated the feeling of having her stomach constrict around emptiness, and she'd fight her way through Bane's entire army for a meal right about now. Bane regarded her blankly. He didn't appreciate how comfortable she was here, and around him. He was intrigued by the fact that she wasn't afraid of him, but he wanted her to learn how to respect him. And with that, his hand shot out and grabbed at her neck, successfully lifting her several inches off the ground. With a choking sound, Anastasia's hands reflexively grabbed at Bane's, which was currently cutting off her air supply.

"You have forgotten your place Anastasia. This is _my_ home. If you want something, you shall request it. And if I feel gracious enough to give it to you, you will show appreciation. Is that clear?" Bane flexed his fingers around her neck. She felt so small in his grasp. He knew with only minimal effort, he could snap her neck in two, and that would be the end of Anastasia Delcourt. As she started struggling against him, the soft hairs on the back of her neck brushed against his fingers, making the pit of his stomach churn uncomfortably. Not so gently, his fingers release her and she dropped like a stone, though careful not to land on her left leg. From the ground, the woman looked up at him, eyes glaring. Unfortunately, a glare to Bane was about as ineffective as a feather would be for breaking his skin. All he did was raise his eyebrows at her expectantly. Amused, he wondered if she'd bend to his will, or if she'd go back to her room, unwilling to swallow her pride.

"Bane, may I have food? _Please_." Her words were stiff, tight with anger directed straight at him.

"Why, of course!" His voice boomed. "Who am I to refuse a person their most basic human need?" Bane was simply toying with her now, curious as to what would set her off. That statement seemed to do the trick. "Barsad, show her to the mess hall and leave her there." With that, the door was slammed shut and Bane returned to his desk.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" At first, Anastasia whispered to herself. He'd made her practically beg him for food, and then he said 'of course!' as if he was in no position to refuse her? Barsad was smart enough to help peel her off the stone ground before she said anything stupid louder. With her arm around his shoulder and his looped around her hips, he quickly pulled her away from Bane's door. However, he couldn't keep her from turning her head around and shouting.

"Fuck you Bane!" Her words rang around the entire open area, where men's jaws dropped at her gusty statement. They looked at each other, wondering would Bane would do to her. Bane however, did not emerge from his room. Instead, he chuckled lighted as his eyes fell upon the various papers thrown about his desk. He knew there would be a time to break her down. Now was not that time. Right now, she had to get better and quickly. He couldn't afford to simply keep her around for no reason. This wasn't charity after all.

"You are not a very smart girl Anastasia." Barsad told her, not happy with the way she disrespected his leader. She obviously didn't realize the consequences her words might have had, because all she did was roll her eyes.

"Actually, I'm very smart. He made sure all my injuries were cared for, which means he needs me fully abled and healthy for whatever he has planned. Therefore, he wouldn't physically injury me to the point of serious damage. Also, he was purposely toying with me. He knows very well I'm not the kind of person that likes to be toyed with. He knew I'd react this way, which is why he's not bothering to 'punish' me for it." Barsad had to hand it to her, she wasn't a total idiot. Not yet anyways. All he did was shake his head, still unsure of what Bane wanted this with woman. "I'm just glad I get to eat now."

"Well, you get to try." Barsad cryptically said to her. Anastasia's eyebrows furrowed. Before getting a chance to ask what he had meant, she was almost pushed into a large dining hall. Wooden doors were closed behind her. She slammed her small fists against the door.

"Barsad! What the hell ar-" Her sentence was cut off by a loud wolf whistle. Anastasia's nostrils flared, knowing exactly what she'd turn to find. Sure enough, as she peaked over her shoulder, there were tables upon tables of men whose eyes were glued to her. Some with simple curiosity, some with much less innocent expressions. With a deep, tired sigh, she momentarily rested her forehead against the door. She contemplated staying pressed up against the door until someone opened it, but the sudden growl of her stomach was enough to force her to turn fully around.

As she walked down the center aisle, Anastasia tried her best to look straight ahead of her and pay no attention to all the eyes that followed her every move. When she finally reached the end of the aisle, there was a long table with several containers that contained food. Or, what was _supposed_ to be food. Her upper lip curled back at her observed that was available. It seemed like bacon, sausage, and eggs. Water was also available at the end of the table. With a sigh of defeat, she grabbed a paper plate and scooped the rubbery looking eggs into it. After grabbing a fork and a water filled plastic cup, she tried to find some kind of secluded spot. She just wasn't in the mood for any interaction from these guys today. Thankfully, her eyes landed on a table off on the side, next to a large back trash can. Only half of it was taken, leaving the other half unattended.

She'd only been sitting down for about 20 seconds before someone sat down on the opposite side of the table from her. She slowly looked up from her plate and looked at the man. He had on a sickeningly smug smirk on his face. Anastasia was also vaguely aware of his friends chuckling in the background.

"Hi." The man said to her. His arms were crossed on the table in front of him, showing off the decent amount of muscle he had acquired over his lifetime. Anastasia didn't reply, only looked at him with an unimpressed look on her face. Without breaking eye contact with him, she scooped some eggs into her fork, and then brought it up to her mouth. His eyes landed on her mouth as her lips parted. Had Anastasia been trying to seduce this man, she'd have wrapped her full lips around the fork, slowly pulling it back out of her mouth. This situation however, called for quite the opposite technique. Instead of her lips, she brought her exposed teeth down on the fork, almost snarling at him, and quickly pulled the fork back out. It took all she had not to spit the eggs back out onto her plate. That wouldn't have had the desired effect on this man. So she was forced to swallow the lumpy, cold, tasteless food. Despite her aggressive display of eating, the man's smile never wavered. Time to switch techniques.

"Look, I know you guys probably don't get to interact with woman very often, but I wouldn't pay me any attention if I were you. Bane's not the sharing kind of guy." Anastasia hated implying she was Bane's in the first place, but she didn't want any trouble, so it was better to just nip it in the bud. And sure enough, the man's eyes widened and he quickly scrambled out of his seat and rushed back to his original table. Well, now Anastasia knew what worked. Hopefully, they were all smart enough to not fuck with her if they thought Bane had already staked a claim on her. Her victory was short lived however, as another man slide in the seat next to her.

"Are you guys seriously so deprived you'll just hit on anything female that walks through here?" She didn't bother to look at the man this time, sure he's scramble away same as the first one.

"Yes. Plus you're kind of pretty." Anastasia snapped as she felt his hand settle itself on her waist and pull her closer to him. In an instant, eggs forgotten, she's grabbed the man's arm and bent it behind his back. Reflexively, the men lets out a cry of pain and stands, which only helps Anastasia to restrain him further as she bend him over and pins him to the table.

"Let go, you crazy bitch!" The man was enraged at the fact that he was being embarrassed in front of all his friends. And by a woman no less.

"I'm not a huge fan of being touched." This comment wasn't aimed at the man she currently kept in pain. No, it was directed at every other person in that hall, sending a very precise message. Touch me, and I will hurt you. Next thing the man knew, he was being pushed down onto the ground, arm released. He scrambled away as Anastasia watched him go. She hadn't let him go intentionally however. The pain that was radiating from her stretched stitches spread to the point where her arm couldn't hold the man's anymore. She'd be damned if she let anyone see her in pain though.

The sound of a gunshot brought her out of her pain induced trance. Her eyes searched for the source, hoping the shot hadn't been meant for her. When she saw her aggressor's body fall lifelessly to the ground, she knew she wasn't in any immediate danger. Sure enough, Bane stood at the door, smoking gun in hand. And boy did he look pissed.

"Let him be an example of how one should not behave around a lady." Disregarding the 'lady' comment, she couldn't help but be pissed off at Bane, and when he turned and exited the hall, she quickly went after him. Though her limp made it difficult, she eventually caught up with him in the hallway.

"I didn't need your help Bane!" She yelled at his back. He suddenly stopped and turned to look at her.

"That wasn't for you." _Oh_, Anastasia thought, _awkward then_. "Once in a while, men get too comfortable here. I must remind them of who is in charge. Does that sound familiar to you?"

"I'm not afraid of you." With that reminder, Bane stepped closer to the woman. Even as his giant body stood right in front of her, close enough that their chests were touching, Anastasia refused to step back.

"And if you were, you would be dead by now." His voice was gently, and his oversized fingers grabbed her chin, lifting her face up to meet his stare. His thumb lightly stroked the side of her mouth as he looked for any type of emotion in her light blue eyes. There was passion, definitely, but somewhere in there he could swear he saw sadness. He vaguely wondered why, but didn't voice his curiosity.

"So, am I just supposed to stay in bed until my cut's all healed up? That'll take weeks. I can't just do nothing for that long."

"Your wound will be healed in no longer than a week, which is when we will start training. Until then," Bane paused as a thought occurred to him, "Until then you will shadow me, and I will show you what I have planned for Gotham." Anastasia's eyes went wide with surprise. Bane was finally going to tell her his plans? A part of her was as excited as a child on Christmas morning, but some part couldn't help but be worried. What if he was planning on completely destroying the city, would he sacrifice her as well, or let her escape?

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**Well, that's chapter 12. Don't forget to review! Because the more you review, the quicker I post updates! :]**


	13. Chapter 13

**Well this one is kind of short, but since it's the second update today, no one is allowed to complain! Hope you like it :]**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia.**

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"What do you think of Gotham?" Bane had taken her into his room, where they both sat at his desk. Anastasia's eyes quickly roamed over the papers that littered the surface in front of her. There were some blueprints, some newspaper articles, and other papers she couldn't understand. At the sound of Bane's voice, she looked up and did her best to answer his question.

"It's a vile place."

"Elaborate."

"It's full of corrupt people. People who are all clawing at each other to get to the top, while stepping on every person under them. It's pathetic."

"Isn't that the concept that you believe in?" Anastasia's eyebrows frowned deeply, offended by Bane's accusation.

"No. I believe that the men on top should have gotten there by actually being better. In Gotham, those ideals are overrun by money, something that doesn't measure anything of value. Not strength, not brains, nothing important. Back when men were not above animals, when we had not written set of rules, the leader was the leader because he was worthy. He didn't get there by killing every other man in the group, which is basically how Gotham is." Anastasia was at a loss for words. She'd never had to explain herself this way. When doctors had asked her how her mind worked, the conversation never went very deep. All she needed to say was that she believed in the concept of survival of the fittest, and that was enough for the doctors to claim her too unstable to survive in modern society. This was different. The doctors had talked down to her, making it clear they thought her mindset was wrong. But with Bane, he didn't have that condescending tone. He was genuinely curious of her reasoning, which Anastasia wasn't use to.

"I agree." Bane responded. Anastasia felt her heart constrict at his words, which caught her off guard. Why was she so affected by Bane's approval? "And so does the League of Shadows. You're aware Ra's al Ghul was murdered?"

"I am."

"He died before going through with his plan of destroying Gotham."

"Obviously."

"His daughter then decided to honor him by finishing what Ra's al Ghul started."

"So you are…his daughter?" Anastasia couldn't help by ask. She figured it was Bane's fault for explaining with such short sentences that explained nothing at all. Bane was not amused however. He vaguely wondered if this woman knew how to have a serious conversation.

"I owe his daughter my freedom, and therefore will give my life to aid her in her mission." Give his life? Anastasia suddenly realized something crucial.

"You sound awful sure you're going to die here." When Bane simply nodded, she knew. "You're going to burn Gotham to ashes, aren't you?" Anastasia already knew the answer to that.

"Yes."

"With me in it?" Bane laughed out loud at that, surprising Anastasia. Bane didn't seem like the kind of guy to laugh often. But in this case, Bane just found her reaction funny. Anyone would have been appalled that he planned to destroy this city with everyone still in it, and yet this woman only cared about if she would escape from that same fate. It was selfish, but it was just like Anastasia.

"Which fate would you pick if I gave you a choice?" Again, Bane left Anastasia completely shocked. Now he was asking her if she would rather live or die? She was having trouble answering his questions, as they were getting harder and harder to answer truthfully. The bigger part of her screamed to tell him that if she had a choice, she'd get the hell out of Gotham as soon as possible. But then, in some tiny corner of her mind, she found a thought that wasn't quite so sure about that decision.

"I'm not sure." She found herself saying, this time surprising Bane.

"I had expected you to pick staying alive. Is that not your goal in life? To survive?"

"I've traveled a lot Bane. I've been to different cities, states, even countries. I know what mankind is like. No matter where you are, man is corrupt. There are thieves, murderers, rapists, and most importantly, politicians, everywhere. If a city is not like Gotham yet, it will be in several years. I honestly can't say if I'd be willing to move, just to end up in the same shitty place. Sometimes, places have to be completely wiped out in order for something better to rise up. I think I'd prefer to survive, but," She paused, trying to wrap her mind around the words that seemed to spill from her lips, "If I had to die to assure the rise of a better, purer society, I might be ok with it."

"You shock me Anastasia." His eyes scanned her face; there was something she wasn't telling him. "What aren't you telling me?"

"I cannot catch a break with you, can I?" Anastasia asked Bane through a light laugh. When he didn't respond, and crossed his arms at her expectantly, she continued. "I'm tired. Not physically. I mean like in my soul. I'm tired of having to pretend to be something I'm not to survive. Of hiding who I really am. Of telling people what they want to hear just so I don't get in trouble. I'm sure you know what that's like?" Honestly, Bane didn't. In the Pit, it had been different. There, he was obligated to be the fittest. It was an environment that embraced natural selection. And when he got out and put on the mask, he had no intention of fitting into a normal society. Here in Gotham, when he went out, he wanted to get the people's attention. Obviously, he wasn't planning on making Gotham his home, so he couldn't imagine trying to fit in and permanently settle down.

"Anastasia, I would like to make you an offer."

"That so?" Anastasia was skeptical. Bane didn't seem like the kind of person to make deals either.

"You may stay here, and be around people that share a similar mindset. Be amongst those who have been betrayed by this city as well. If you do, you will help me destroy the city that has taken so much from you, that's unnecessarily brought you to such extremes," Bane's hands gestured to the exposed scars on her shoulder, "Or, you may go home, and live in the shadows until the city falls." Though the offer made it seem like the latter was a better choice, she couldn't help but notice the fact that in both scenarios, she didn't live. She wasn't sure how she felt about that yet. Her body was screaming to get the hell out of there, and out of Gotham. _Survive_, it told her. But her brain yelled back to her body. What's the point of surviving when you have to hide who you are, when you have to pretend to be like everyone else when you aren't? What's the point of surviving when you aren't happy? And there was no denying it, Anastasia had rarely been happy throughout her life. She was torn.

"I'd like to think about it." Her eyes were soft as she met Bane's gaze. He could see the internal conflict behind her bright blue eyes, and at that moment he wished he could hear her thoughts.

"You have 2 days."

"Okay. So, what are all these blueprints for?" Anastasia seriously doubted Bane would actually explain it to her, not before she'd made up her mind about staying or leaving anyways.

"Anastasia, do you really expect me to explain my plan to you before you make a decision?" Well, it was worth a try.

"Of course not. That'd be too easy." Bane couldn't pry his eyes away from the small smile that formed on her lips. It was a small, simple smile, but he'd never seen a real one on her face. It was always some sort of wicked or sarcastic smirk or grin. Here, she almost looked liberated, as if being able to talk so openly had lifted some kind of weight off her shoulders. It was a sight to see. He couldn't help a certain word from floating across his mind. _Beautiful_.

"Do you want me to stay here?" Anastasia's sudden inquiry brought him out of his thoughts, only to make him think hard once more. Did he? He was definitely trying to sway her in that direction. Was it for his plan, or simply himself? Perhaps he just wanted to train her and see how powerful she could get. Maybe it was just for her sake, but then again, Bane wasn't the type to have charity projects on the side.

"I would like to give you a chance to take back the happiness this city has taken from you." Anastasia wasn't sure how to take his answer. It sounded like he wanted to help her, but what was he gaining from it?

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	14. Chapter 14

**Okay so this one is super short, but I don't have time to write a super long one at the moment, so this will have to do! In case you didn't notice, I switched out the author's note for this chapter, since those who have read it know what it addressed, and those who haven't read it will get the basic gist in this chapter. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia.**

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"Bane?" Confused words tumble out of Anastasia's mouth before she can understand her surroundings. Bane stands shirtless in front of her, staring into her eyes emotionlessly. "What's going on?" He doesn't answer her, simply keeps his eyes glued to hers. Bothered by his silence, she looks around her. They stand in the middle of a pile of rubble. Though it's not just a pile, because it stretches as far as her eyes can see. Several fires can be seen not far from the two. "What happened?" Again, her question is answered with silence. Anastasia is about to yell at Bane, tell him to say something, when she notices something move behind him. Her neck stretches to look around his huge body, but he just takes a step over to block her view once more. "Bane stop, I'm trying to look at something." Why was he being so irritating?

Suddenly, bodies start digging themselves out from under the rubble. Children, Anastasia realized. She watches, horrified, as their bloodied arms drag them from under bricks and chucks of wood. But when they finally all manage to bring themselves up to their feet, Anastasia's blood runs cold. The children she'd saved from the drug dealers. She eyes tear up at the sight as she tries to find her voice.

"What happened to you guys?" Again, Anastasia tries to look around Bane, but once more he moved to keep her from truly seeing the sight behind him. "Bane, stop!" She doesn't understand how he's simply standing there with those vacant eyes.

"Why didn't you save us?" All the children ask in unison. It sends shivers down her spine, and not the good kind she often feels with Bane. These shivers chill her to the bone.

"I did." Her voice cracks as a tear finally makes its way down her pale cheek. "I killed all those men for you." The kids don't reply. Instead, they turn their backs to her. At first, Anastasia assumes they're just ignoring her, but then her eyes fall on what they've turned to look at. She can't quite understand what she's looking at. It's like a wall of thick gray fog. But it's coming at them much too fast to be simply fog. Anastasia's eyes go wide.

"Why don't you save us?" The children repeat, still facing the cloud of destruction. Anastasia is at a loss for words. She's paralyzed, stuck facing her fate. As the fog gets closer, her eyes fall on Bane once again, his eyes still vacant of any emotion. With a large gasp, her arms instinctively shoot up to shield herself, though proving to be useless.

Anastasia's body shoots up in a fraction of a second, sending beads of sweat flying from her hair and onto the sheets, further soaking them. Her breathing is deep and frantic to forget the nightmare she has just had. Next thing she knew, her throat closed up to choke back a sob as tears filled her eyes. Her frail body shook with each breath.

"What the fuck was that?" She asked herself, burying her face in her hands. She tried to make sense of the dream, of Bane's empty stare, of the children there. She suddenly felt ashamed of her words earlier. How could she have given up so easily? One thing was clear from the dream. Bane was not here to help her find happiness. In the end, he wouldn't show her any humanity. She would die here, same at the rest of the scum of Gotham. Same as those kids she'd killed 13 men to protect. Anastasia couldn't quite shake seeing them bloodied and so pale. Couldn't shake their monotonous, accusatory voices. They had been right though. She'd protected them then, why give up on them now? They were just children. Though in a way, she already knew the answer to that. Before, all she had had to do was kill a few men. In this case, she would have to go against _Bane_ and somehow keep his plan from unfolding. Not the same level of risk. What was she going to do? She didn't want to die. Not in Gotham, not with Bane. In fact, not anywhere, with anyone. She was going to survive. Bane had made a fool of her, it was time for her to make a fool of him right back.

Several minutes later, Anastasia had made up her mind. She would stay with Bane. She'd train, and when he finally showed her his plan for Gotham, she would decide if she could save it. If the plan was easy to bring down, she would do her best. But if it proved to be too difficult, she would put her own survival first. After all, she was _not_ a hero. If it came to that, she'd escaped from Bane's clutches. She had done it before, and she was sure she could do it again. Only time would tell.

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**Hope you liked it! Don't forget to review! Especially those who were worried Anastasia was going soft. Let me know if this chapter has helped her get some of ther credibility back :]**


	15. Chapter 15

**Here's chapter 15! Warning, it does have sexual stuff in it (this chapter is when that M rating starts to kick in). I hope you like it! Since I just finished writing it, I'm going to go take a cold shower now... Please tell me how you like it! Oh and one more thing, I'm heading back to college tomorrow for the semester so updates are going to get slower for sure. For those of you who don't have accounts to this site and just check every day for updates, I suggest just getting an account and setting up chapter alerts. Much easier!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia.**

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"You don't look like you had a very sleep-filled night." Bane pointed out at Anastasia as she knocked at his door that morning. He wasn't wrong though, after the nightmare it had been impossible for Anastasia to go back to sleep. She'd stayed up all night trying to figure out how she was going to trick Bane into thinking she was serious about staying here. She came to the same conclusion over and over again. She was going to have to do her best to seem happy here, truly happy. Part of her was sure if she faked it, that Bane would see right through her fake smiles. But in a way she didn't think it would be that hard to be happy down here. Though she was sure Bane was trying to manipulate her into staying down here, he had been right when he had said she would be staying with people who were like her, who Gotham had failed. And if Bane kept going around shirtless like he was at the moment, she had a feeling being happy would not be a problem at all. Anastasia cleared her throat and did her best not to stare at the layers of muscle under his skin that she so desperately wanted to touch.

"I blame the piece of stale bread in my room that you guys call a mattress. If I'm going to stay here, I'm definitely going to need to get a few things from my home."

"So you've decided then?"

"I have."

"And?" Jesus, did she have to spell it out for him? Bane just wanted to hear her say the words, hear her explanation for signing her life away. _Lie_, Anastasia commanded herself.

"I'd rather be happy for several months and die, than live the rest of my life in misery and then die anyways." As far as she could tell, she'd been convincing enough. Bane's eyes searched hers for any sign that she was bluffing, but couldn't seem to find any.

"I will drive you to your house later today. Until then, you will rest." Anastasia couldn't help but wonder if he had anything better to do than be her chauffeur.

"How long do I have to rest for before I'm allowed to not rest? Cause resting is getting kind of old."

"Only 2 days have passed. You will need to learn patience here. And you will rest until I say you can stop. You may use my bed for now." Bane moved aside to let Anastasia walk in, which she did suspiciously. Bane was going to let her sleep in his bed? Well, she supposed it did look more comfortable, and those covers did look a lot warmer than the one she had. Suddenly, Anastasia had a hard time keeping her eyelids open. Too tired to question Bane, she slipped under the thin covers and curled herself into a ball in the middle of his mattress, his pillow tucked under her head. It was only when she heard the door slam that she looked back at the door and realized Bane had left. Shrugging, she closed her eyes once more and did her best to drift off. Sure enough, less than 15 minutes later, Anastasia had slipped into a deep sleep.

_*Anastasia's POV*_

Bane and I are both sitting on chairs just facing each other. My legs are crossed at the knee with my hands folded neatly in my lap. My head is head high and I have a small smirk on my lips, not to mention an eyebrow raised. This is my 'better than you' tough girl pose. It's casual enough to say 'your presence doesn't intimidate me' and smug enough in a 'can't touch me' way. Bane's posture is much less thought out. Leaning forward, he has his elbows on his knees with one fist holding his chin and his other hand simply hanging down between his legs. He is simply curious of me, and that worries me. I'm not sure it's a good idea to have the man planning to destroy Gotham take any kind of interest in me. That in mind, I can't help but lean forward also, dropping my act. The corners of Bane's eyes crinkle. A smile maybe? It's hard to tell when you can't see his mouth or nose.

Bane's chair scrapes against the floor when he stands, the back of his knees sending it back a few inches. My eyes don't leave his for a second as he calmly walks towards me. I can't help but think of how much bigger this man is than me. Being a woman of about 5'8'' that wore heels on a regular basis, I'd gotten use to being taller than most. There was no chance of feeling tall around Bane. That's not even mentioning his muscle mass. His bicep is probably bigger than my head. Maybe that should scare me, but honestly, it just turns me on. He finally stops in front of me without a word. In an instant, his fingers grab my chin. At first he just tilts my head back to look at me. With his other hand he brushes a strand of black hair from my face. The feeling of his fingertips brushing against my cheek is enough to shoot sparks down my spine, stopping just between my legs. But then he pulls me up off the chair. Bane kicks it from behind me, sending it flying back several feet. I don't turn around to check, because I'm completely lost in his eyes. The light blue color seems to envelop me to the point where I can't seem to breathe. In his eyes, I see an unlimited amount of emotions. Anger, desire, passion, and confusion. I choose to focus on desire and passion. I want to play with his emotions, see how they work and learn to bring them out. I want to break Bane from his always stoic shell.

In a moment of bravery, I place my palms on his naked chest. I feel the muscles tense under my touch. Looking up through my eyelashes, I see his eyes aren't telling me to stop. In fact, they almost look like they're enjoying this. I let my hands wonder. One on his chest, the other around his shoulder and arm. I can't get over the amount of muscle Bane has. He could probably break me in half with one arm tied behind his back. That thought makes me feel fragile, which isn't something I'm use to feeling. Slowly, I explore his abdomen next. Most men have about 6 distinct abs, but not Bane. That would be too simple. Bane instead has one giant muscle there. I subconsciously start biting at my lower lip. Before I have time to explore any more, I'm caught off guard by Bane's arm snaking around my waist, pulling me tightly against him. Although it somewhat resembles a hug, it strikes me more as an embrace. And though it might seem simple to anyone else, I can't help but feel this is his version of a kiss. With that, Bane has given me the green light. My lips quickly find their way to his neck. I lick, suck, bite, and repeat in a different spot, earning a quiet but animalistic growl from him. From the tightening of his arm around me, I'm only encouraged. My hands roam freely, feeling every inch of him. Well, except the inches I _really _want to feel.

When Bane starts pushing me backwards, it's not long before my back presses up against a wall. This time, it's his hands that are on me. They peel my shirt away. My bra quickly follows.

"Bane…" A deep sigh escapes my mouth when his hand grazes over my right breast, then grabs it roughly. His other hand explores now. First it feels at my waist, memorizing the soft curve. Next is my collarbone and neck, almost reveling in his fragility. I want to beg him to touch me harder, touch me more, everywhere. But I keep my mouth shut, afraid my words will scare him off. Where his skin goes, a fire follows. My whole body is on fire. And it simply burns so good.

Finally, after what seems like hours of torture, both his hands go to unbutton my jeans. When they succeed and my pants pool around my feet, I kick the pesky piece of fabric away carelessly. Our eyes meet, our bodies pausing in the moment. I can tell I'm breathing hard in anticipation. Bane's breathing seems normal, though maybe a bit faster than usual. It's hard to tell, and right now, it's not my main concern. In an instant, my legs are wrapped around his waist, his body pinning me to the wall. His hands at first stay on the back of my highs, but when I return to my assault on his neck, his hands can't help but grab at my hips, and hard. The rough pressure only makes me nip at him harder.

The tips of his fingers play with the hem of underwear next, and I find myself wishing he'd just rip them off. Rip them off, toss them to the side, and do what you please with me, I want to tell him. But again, I don't, telling myself he'll get to it when he's ready. And apparently, he's ready now, because a second later, I hear fabric ripping and feel a sudden breeze on my more intimate places. I shut my eyes tightly, willing myself to not lose control at his roughness.

His hands tease me. Touch me, but not hard enough. Play with me, but not the places I want them to.

"Beg." Bane's strong, mechanical voice echoes in my ears. He wants me to beg for my release. Beg for him. Normally, I'd be too proud for that. But this is _Bane_.

"Bane, please…"

"Please what?" I bite at his shoulder harder. I'm not sure if I'm trying to hurt him for forcing me to say it out loud, or if the pleasure from the teasing of his hands is simply getting more intense.

"Please touch me." I pull my face from his neck and look at him when I say this. I can't imagine what kind of state I'm in. My cheeks are blood red, my eyelids half closed, and my lips wet and open. Nevertheless, my begging seems to be enough for him.

Bane's fingers sink into me so hard and unexpectedly, my arms wrap around his neck reflexively and my nails sink into his back.

"Fuck!" I throw my head back from the sensation of finally having a part of him inside me. Bane pulls his fingers back, enticing a deep moan from me. He pushes them back in.

"Anastasia."

I'm completely lost in the sensation of his fingers. I throb around him. I want more. I want more now. My teeth latch onto my lower lip once more, trying to contain the moans steadily coming from the pit of my stomach.

"Anastasia."

His fingers don't stop. They only go harder, and faster. My pleasure only rises.

"Anastasia!"

My eyes snap open in a heartbeat, torn from my dream by my name being called. I look around my surroundings in a panic, not recognizing them for a second. Then I remember I'm in Bane's room, and my heart skips a beat.

"You'll have to excuse me for waking you, but your moans were making it hard for me to focus on my work." Of course, Bane is sitting at the desk across the room. A lamp is lit, illuminating him and his papers. He's looking at me over his shoulder, a small smirk apparent from his eyes. For a moment, I'm at a loss for what to respond. I know he's trying to embarrass me. My chest heaves as I realize my breathing is still deep and fast. My cheeks are red and I feel like I'm covered in a thin layer of sweat. With the leftover adrenaline from my dream, I wickedly smile at him.

"Sorry, but I blame you for that." I'm feeling quite happy with myself and I see his eyebrow shoot up in surprise. However, what came out of Bane's mouth next was something I would have never guessed in a million years.

"I have always been the type of man to take responsibility for what is my fault. And I always finish what I start." With that, he rises from his seat and turns to the bed. His eyes are dark as they look into mine, which I'm sure are showing only surprise at the moment. I don't say anything as he advances towards me. I'm only able to swallow hard as his shirt lands on the floor at the foot of the bed.

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**Don't forget to review! Pretty please!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry it took so long for me to get this out guys! I've been sick since last Monday and with the new semester consisting of 18 credit hours, I've been pretty swamped! But here you go, the moment you've all been waiting for! Now please keep in mind this is actually the very first time I write this type of scene, so please be gently with me. Though I do want to know what you think! The story after this will be picking up quick a bit, and I'll try to get updates out faster (though I make no promises).**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia.**

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I blink once. Twice. Three times, just to make sure I'm really awake. Bane hovers over me, his hands on both sides of my head, arms extended to support his weight. I'm sure from a bird's eye view, you wouldn't even be able to tell there was anyone under him. He was big from a distance, but this close up, the man was a mountain. A mountain of muscle that was currently studying me. His blue eyes search my face for any sign of emotion, but I try to keep it as blank as possible. I'm sure some curiosity, maybe even lust, shows through though. I've been caught off guard by his forwardness. I hadn't actually thought he'd act on my words. But he had, so here we were.

_*Third Person POV*_

Bane wasn't sure what had made him react this way. Maybe it was the moans that escaped her spread lips. Maybe it was how her legs appeared to clench tighter every couple seconds. Or maybe it was the way the black hair framing her face seemed to make her flawless pale skin almost glow. No matter the reason, something inside him had simply snapped. It was obvious she wanted him, she had even told him to his face that she did. And there she had been, lying innocently in _his_ bed, moaning _his_ name. Bane was certain no man could have resisted her in that moment. And he was after all, just a man.

Afraid of what he would do if she kept making those seductive sounds, he had called her name. It wasn't until the third call that she finally woke up. At first, she seemed disoriented, confused at her surroundings. But when her surprised eyes landed on him and remembered she was in his room, he couldn't help himself. He simply enjoyed making her squirm.

"You'll have to excuse me for waking you, but your moans were making it hard for me to focus on my work." Bane had expected a blush, or at least some kind of shifting eyes. Something to indicate he had made her uncomfortable. The words that came out of her mouth next were something he had not expected.

"Sorry, but I blame you for that." She voice was laced with malice, that oh so familiar smirk gracing her flushed face. Bane's eyebrows shot up, shocked by her guts. Not only had she told him to his face she wanted to 'mate' with him, but now she had admitted to having a sex dream with him in it. This woman was full of surprises. He considered quickly what to respond next. He hadn't expected the conversation to that such a turn. Thinking it over, he realized he didn't want to ignore that churning in the pit of his stomach any longer.

"I have always been the type of man to take responsibility for what is my fault. And I always finish what I start." Rising from the chair, he turned towards the woman in his bed and stared at her with almost an almost predatory gaze. Surprise was apparent on her face as she stayed silent. Bane peels his shirt off as he reached the end of the bed. When the fabric hit the floor, he could practically hear Anastasia swallowing hard in anticipation.

Bane's body crawled over Anastasia's too slowly for her liking, his eyes never leaving hers. The electricity that ran between their bodies was undeniable, only making Anastasia want to touch him more. But she didn't. She waited for him to make the first move. When Bane finally settled himself between her spread legs, she couldn't help but let out a shaky breath. She could feel him through his pants. He pressed hard against her inner thigh, completely distracting her from his gaze for the first time since she'd woken up. Anastasia's senses were completely overwhelmed. All she could hear, see, smell, and feel, was Bane. She was tired of this game they played. The game where they would dance around each other, seeing who would snap first, seeing who would react how. She just wanted him, and she wanted him now. Was that too much to ask?

"So, this dream of yours," Bane started, snapping Anastasia out of her thoughts. Her eyes quickly met his again. He seemed amused. "Did it go something like his?" His right hand, which had previously been by her head, was now strongly grabbing her hips, securing her in place while he pressed his erection harder against her.

"Well actually," She was having trouble forming a sentence, slightly stumbling over her words, "It was against a wall."

"I'm sorry not to live quite up to your fantasy then. But I have a feeling the bed will be just as satisfying…for now." Anastasia's mind was reeling. This man was completely overwhelming. She was still trying to convince herself she wasn't dreaming! But she wasn't. She could tell by the pressure his fingers exerted against the sensitive skin of her hip, or by the dip his left hand created in the mattress next to her head, or even by the artificial breathing sound from his mask that filled the room. Those were the small details she couldn't possibly dream up. The small details that at the moment were driving her absolutely insane. This man had too much patience for his own good.

Finally, Anastasia's patience ran out. She reached up to kiss where Bane's shoulder met his neck. The skin there was soft against her lips, and so damn warm. Opening her mouth slightly wider, she softly bit at his skin, pulling and sucking gently. At first, she wasn't sure he was reacting to her at all, until she felt his fingers dig into her hips with more force. With more confidence, she moved higher up on his neck, repeating her assault just like she had in the dream. Her hands had placed themselves on Bane's smooth chest for the moment, but after a few minutes of her teasing, she couldn't help but move them lower. Lower until they reached his pants. She blindly undid his belt, trying her best to keep her hands from shaking with anticipation. Finally, the belt was loosened and his pants unbuttoned.

Anastasia paused for several seconds, waiting for Bane's go ahead. He gave it with a low, primal groan and a squeeze of her waist. Slowly, her hand reached into his pants, finally reaching her target. And damn did he not disappoint. It was now obvious that her previous accusations had been wrong; he was definitely _not_ taking steroids. He was _huge_, and completely proportionate to the rest of his body. Her fingers wrapped tentatively around him, squeezing slightly. Bane's head dropped next to hers, his forehead against the mattress and his breathing, which was getting deeper and faster now, right besides her ear.

Keeping the pressure around him, she slowly stroked his manhood. Though her deep breathing in her ear was enough to send sparks down her spine, she tried to stay focused on the task at hand. _To the tip, all the way back, and repeat, rub your thumb firmly against the head, then all the way back,_ she mentally instructed herself. Whatever she was doing, it was definitely working. Bane was fully erect, practically bursting out of his pants, and every muscle in his body seemed to be tensed. Anastasia lowered her second hand to help take him fully out, but before she could, Bane released her hip, lifted his head, and sprang into action. Before she knew what was happening, Bane had ripped her shirt off and thrown it to the side. Anastasia gasped as the cold air hit her bare, but still wrapped, chest. Next, he quickly fumbled with his pants, sliding them off her long legs in an instant. He stopped for a moment and admired the naked woman in front of her. Even with a bandage covering her breasts, she was still a sight to see. He wanted to touch every inch of her, from the curve of her neck to her most intimate parts. The gaze that roamed her body was animalistic, and that did nothing but excite Anastasia. In an instant, Bane seemed to wake up from his trance and before she knew it, he had both her wrists pinned above her head with his left hand. His right hand however, started around her neck, slowly moving down to her collarbones. He couldn't help but notice how delicate she seemed under him. How completely defenseless she was in this position. Her pale skin looked like it would shatter at his touch if he pressed too hard. Feeling the round of her breasts, his hands then moved lower to her flat stomach. She'd gained some healthy weight back since he'd first seem her, he noted. And finally, his fingertips ended at the hem of her panties. Her hips squirmed under him, attempting to push herself against him. He chuckled at her desperate attempt. Slowly, tantalizingly slowly, he reached under the thin fabric and felt her. At that simple touch, her head was thrown back with a low moan. She was already so wet from the dream that every touch sent sparks flying, making her desperate for any kind of pleasure. Her legs spread wider to accommodate his large hand. Bane's thumb found her clit, and in a circular motion started to lightly rub. That earned him a sharp gasp and an arch of her back.

Bane found her absolutely fascinating like this. He wanted to learn how her body worked. He wanted to know how she would react to every kind of touch. With this in mind, he roughly thrust two fingers inside her.

"Bane!" Anastasia shouted. Though not in pain, or disapproval of his actions. He could tell from how tight her eyes were closed and the position of her eyebrows that she was in complete pleasure. His fingers pulled out then pushed back in, while his palm rubbed against her clit. The pleasure too much for Anastasia to handle, she tried pulling her wrists from his grasp. She needed to dig her nails into him, wrap an arm around his broad shoulder, anything to keep her from squirming so much. But Bane wouldn't allow it. Her wrists stayed above her head as her hips moved against his fingers, her back arching and biting her lower lip to contain her moans.

"Bane please." She sounded so out of breathe as she uttered his name. Bane liked the sound of it, and he was going to do all he could to hear it more.

"Please what?" He knew what, but he wanted to hear her say it. He wanted to hear her beg for him. Anastasia couldn't help but notice how accurate her dream had been of Bane's behavior. Having no choice but to swallow her pride, she opened her eyes and stared into his. The lust and desire burned between them.

"Please fuck me." That was all Bane could take. He'd resisted long enough. In one swift motion, his pants had been lowered enough, and her panties ripped off, and he thrust into her with a force that almost knocked the breath out of Anastasia. Inside of her, he almost seemed bigger than he had been in her hand. Her walls stretched to accommodate his size, which he allowed by not moving. Anastasia's chest rose and fell with every lungful of air. Finally, he let go of her wrists. Her arms quickly latched around his shoulder and neck. One of his stayed next to her head to support his weight while the other roughly returned to her waist. Without a word, Anastasia signaled him to continue with an upwards thrust of her hips. Bane didn't need to be told twice.

He slammed into her once more, resulting in her nails digging deeper into the skin of his shoulder. She stifled a loud groan. As he pulled back out, Anastasia's hips followed, missing his presence inside of her, but his hand kept her down. He teased her for a while, keeping the head of his penis right at her entrance, not quite inside of her.

"Stop teasing Bane." Anastasia's words almost seemed like a whimper to Bane, which only made him smirk more. He was wildly enjoying having control over her like this. Finally, after several agonizing seconds, he buried himself into her once more. Their bodies, covered in a thin layer of sweat, glided against each other. Bane let out a deep groan at the feeling of her walls clenching around him. That feeling, combined with her moans in his ear, and her nails digging into his skin, was more pleasure than he'd thought he would get from this. It was a powerful feeling that only made him thrust harder into her, pounding mercilessly.

"Oh, fuck!" Anastasia let out. Bane could feel himself filling her to the very brim with every push inside her. With every thrust, her breathing got faster, her moans deeper, and her walls tighter. She was getting closer. Bane would be lying if he said he wasn't close also. His grasp on her waist for rougher, his fingers digging painfully into her skin. The feeling only brought Anastasia more pleasure. Her hips moved to meet him at every thrust, desperate for the release she knew was coming close.

"Don't stop." Her out of breath words were unnecessary, for Bane had no intention of stopping his very much appreciated assault on her. If anything, her command only made him push harder into her. His hand released her waist and quickly grabbed onto her thigh, wrapping her leg around him, giving him even deeper access.

Anastasia's senses were completely overtaken by pleasure. Pleasure that Bane was very successfully giving her. She felt the muscles of his shoulder tense and relax, and tense again under her hand. By the sweat that had formed on his forehead and the roughness of his thrusts, she knew he was close. Her head reached up and once again, her mouth latched onto his neck, this time very roughly biting and sucking at the sensitive skin there. A loud, almost growl like sound escaped him in response. Anastasia couldn't help but notice the predatory sound it had to it, and it only helped her reach her climax, which occurred only moments later. Her mouth tried to stifle the moans in his neck as her walls violently clenched around him. Bane didn't stop thrusting right away however. Though the feeling of her orgasm around him was almost unbearably pleasurable, he kept going until he finally found his release, burying himself inside of her while his whole body seemed to quiver above hers.

A few minutes of recovering later, Bane fell onto his back besides Anastasia, who still seemed to be coming down from her orgasm.

"Holy shit." Was all her could say at the moment. Her legs shook slightly before completely falling flat onto the bed, her hand resting limply on the mattress next to her head. Her head turned and took the sight of Bane in. Though he had tucked himself back into his pants, he was still unbelievably sexy in that instant. His cheeks had turned red, and his entire chest glistened with sweat, his and probably hers too. His eyes found hers.

"Was that as good as your dream was?" He asked, amusement showing in his eyes.

"I'm not sure. I didn't get to finish the dream." Anastasia replied, a small lazy smile gracing her lips. Bane took a second to take in the woman in front of him. She truly was a beautiful woman. Every curve sculpted carefully, every dimple and freckle placed methodically. His eyes fell on her bright red cheeks and the smile that had appeared on her lips. He rarely saw her simply smile. It was always a smirk, or a grin, but rarely a true smile. It was a sight to see.

"Although I'm not the cuddling after sex type, am I obligated to go back to my room tonight? Or may I sleep here?" Anastasia asked respectfully, hoping he'd let her stay. Though she didn't sleep will with other people, there was no way she was going to be able to sleep on her sad excuse for a mattress. Besides, at the moment, she wasn't sure her legs would carry her that far.

"You may sleep here tonight. But tomorrow morning, we will start your training." His light blue eyes locked onto hers in a deep stare.

"Already?" She frowned. Wasn't she suppose to let her cut heal up first?

"Yes." His voice was stern.

"Okay. You're the boss." Both of them returned their gazes to the ceiling, going over in their heads what had just happened. _Wow_, Anastasia couldn't help but think. Though her body was fully satisfied at the moment, a small part in the back of her mind couldn't help but think that the sex would only make it more difficult to leave when the time came. She quickly brushed off that thought, knowing she wouldn't let sex come in the way of her survival. She looked back at Bane. His eyes were now closed. She couldn't deny that he was a physically surreal looking man, with handsome features and a body that almost seemed artificial. He was one of a kind, physically and mentally. But he was going to die here, and she sure as hell wasn't.

Flipping onto her stomach, Anastasia closed her eyes. Drifting off to sleep wasn't nearly as hard as she had thought it would be. The sex had completely drained her, and sleep was welcomed openly.

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	17. Chapter 17

**Ok, here are my excuses for not updating in so long:**

**1. I've had a cold since January 7th. No joke.**

**2. My 'l' key is broken, meaning each 'l' in this chapter is a result of copy/paste.**

**3. I've recently gotten out of a long-term relationship, which means no inspiration for writing.**

**4. 18 credit hours require a lot of work.**

**I had an epiphany though. I was reading a story on here the other night is was about 50,000 words and had about 50 reviews and I thought it was a really good story. And then I realized my story is not even 20,000 and I have 93 reviews, so my story seems to be actually really good! Which I hadn't realized before...haha. But I am sorry for taking so long! I hope you like the chapter...**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia.**

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Bane stared at the woman that slept next to him. She was resting on her stomach with her head turned towards him and her arms tucked under the pillow. The small light that illuminated the desk was just enough to let Bane see all the scars on her back. He determinedly brought his fingertips to her skin and grazed the small white lines. They made an interesting pattern. The smaller, less noticeable ones were on the sides of her back, and behind her shoulders, all places she could reach herself. However the 3 large, angry looking scars were a different story. With one crossing her spine low on her back and the other 2 in the middle of the top, those seemed to not be self inflicted. Bane vaguely wondered why they were so jagged and raw looking, as if they hadn't been taken care of after infliction. Anastasia stirred, making a small sound that sounded like a moan you'd let out after stretching before burying her face deeper into the lumpy pillow. Bane's light blue eyes stayed glued to her face. She looked so innocent when she slept. Her lips were slightly open and the muscles in her face were relaxed, for once. He was so use to seeing her with some kind of facial expression. Her eyebrows were relaxed instead of frowning, she eyes lightly closed instead of narrowed and her mouth straight instead of baring a smile or grin. And she looked so God damn innocent that way. Before then, the word innocent hadn't crossed Bane's mind when thinking of Anastasia. But now that he thought of it, she was. Though her hands had blood on them, it was blood spilled for survival. She'd been thrown in a place that couldn't understand her, and from their rejection she spiraled down. Part of Bane couldn't help but be disgusted by the scars she wore on her back. He considered them a sign of weakness, and he found it almost appalling that she'd given those to herself. _Pathetic_, he thought. But on the other hand, he knew she'd overcome that stage of her life. In a war, those were scars of victory. She'd been kicked down by society and still finished on top. In a way, Anastasia was a lot like Bane, only Gotham had been her Pit, and she just hadn't gotten out yet.

Bane flattened his hand on Anastasia's skin as he stroked from the back of her neck to the small of her back. He could feel the scar tissue of her spine against his calloused hand. When he reached the bottom of her back, his fingertips played with the two small dimples there. Part of him was tempted to throw the thin cover off her completely, instead of keeping it wrapped around her hips and legs, but he thought better of it.

"You shouldn't touch girls when they're sleeping Bane, it's frowned upon in most societies." Bane was caught off guard for a second by Anastasia's words. He hadn't noticed her waking up. Though her eyes were still closed, she licked her lips and stretched her arms, followed by the rest of her body. Bane couldn't help but notice the layers of muscles that stayed hidden beneath her skin. She didn't seem like a muscular girl, but when she tensed, you could clearly see that a decent amount of muscles were there, simply waiting for an excuse to be used.

"Did I wake you?" Bane asked him, pulling his hand away from Anastasia.

"I don't sleep well with others."

"You seemed just fine to me earlier." Anastasia chucked, catching on to his pun about that night's previous sexual encounter.

"Just fine? Ouch Bane, that hurts." Anastasia jokes. She looked at Bane, who was without a shirt, lying on his side. Bane didn't reply, simply kept observing her, which unsettled Anastasia. She didn't like to be paid attention to too closely. To stop his stare, she sighed and flipped over onto her side, looking away from him. She'd expected that to be the end of that. How wrong she was.

A few seconds later, she could feel Bane moving around behind her. Finally she felt him settle himself against her body. His hand found her waist and grasped it firmly, pulling her closer to him. The idea that Bane and she were actually _spooning _almost made Anastasia chuckle, but she resisted the urge. Her amusement was cut short when she felt him against her upper thigh. _Seriously?_ She thought to herself. The man wasn't even hard and she could still feel the distinct outline of him pressed firmly against her skin. The hand that was holding her waist moved down to her hip and pulled her hard, grinding himself against her ass. Anastasia couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips, trying hard to quell the desire that was once again pooling between her legs. She could almost hear Bane's smug smirk, her moans only stroking his ego.

The harder Bane got, the harder her ground against Anastasia, until finally she could not resist any longer. Turning fully around to meet his gaze, her hand instinctively reached down to grab him.

Anastasia wasn't sure what time it was when she stirred awake, but it couldn't have been that late, because Bane was still asleep next to her, and she assumed he was an early riser. Carefully, trying to make as little sound as possible, she sat up on the bed. Only pausing to make sure her movements hadn't awoken Bane, she stood up several seconds later. Looking down at herself, she couldn't help but mentally groan at her outfit. She was still wearing those oversized pants and shirt that one of Bane's men had provided her. It simply wouldn't do. It was about time to go home and pack a bag or something. Maybe take a shower too. Did they even have showers here? Anastasia was scared to know the answer to that. Instead, she pushed those thoughts of out her mind and headed towards the door. Surprisingly, though the men did watch her leave, none made any movement to stop her. Guess she really wasn't a captive anymore. That was definitely a step forward.

This time, Anastasia didn't hesitate about which hallway to use. She was definitely used to taking the exit route out of this place by now. About 10 minutes of walking through the cold damp tunnels, she found the exit and rose to street level, where the cold night air hit her like a million like needles on her skin.

"Fuck." She cussed as she wrapped her arms around herself in a pathetic attempt to keep some of her body heat and started the rather long walk home.

Anastasia's POV

It was still dark out when I reached my house. I breathed a sigh of relief as soon as it came into sight. It felt like I hadn't been there in so long. Bane had just forced himself into my life in a way that didn't leave me a lot of time for anything else. As I walked through the front door, I couldn't help but feel a sudden burst of sadness. Soon enough, this house would be destroyed by Bane's plans. Though I usually tried to seem void of any sentimental emotion, I really did love this house. There were a lot of good memories here that'd I'd miss once I left. I tried to ignore the sense of nostalgia that washed over me as I walked up the creaky stairs to my bedroom. The first thing I noticed was the bloodstains on the covers of my bed. I lightly laughed at the thought of shooting Bane. Though that had been an exhausting night, she had enjoyed having control over Bane, at least for a little while.

My hand reached into the back of my closet and finally landed on the familiar duffel bag. It was a little beat up and not overly big, but it would do the trick for now. I could always come back for more stuff. I wasted no time before I started stuffing clothes into it. First underwear and bras, and then shirts and jeans. I hesitated when I found the very familiar little black dress, but decided to take it with me. A girl never knows when she'll need to look sexy. I made sure to pack something I could train it. Yoga pants and a sports bra would do just fine. Next, the bathroom. I really only needed my hairbrush, toothbrush, and the little cosmetic bag that held a small amount of makeup and a purse sized vial of perfume. Rushing back to my room, I threw it in the duffel bag and closed it. It wasn't much, but it was enough to live suitably for a while.

"You have a habit of leaving unannounced." I jumped, startled by Bane's sudden presence. I really need to put a bell on this guy.

"It wasn't exactly unannounced. A couple of your men saw me leave." I replied, defending myself.

"Packing?" I saw him eye my bag.

"Yes. Mercenary clothes don't suit me. And I doubt you are going to provide me with clean underwear." Bane smirked and stepped further into my bedroom, saying nothing. Instead of giving him anymore of my attention, I went back to packing. Though I was pretty much done, there was still some space left that I could fill.

Oh! Of course! I suddenly remembered the one item I couldn't live without. I went around my bed to my nightstand and pulled the drawer open. At the bottom, there was an unlabeled, thin folder. I pulled it out and discretely stuffed it in my bag, not wanting Bane to ask questions. When I turned back to Bane, I noticed he was looking at something on my dresser. At first I frowned, not understand what could hold his attention. And then it clicked. I was about to rush open and snatch the little box from his hands and he spoke up.

"Were you in love Anastasia?" I was taken aback. I'd expected some questions, but definitely not that one.

"No, I wasn't."

"You're lying. If you weren't, you wouldn't have kept the ring."

"I wouldn't throw it away, it's worth quite a bit of money."

"If it was about money, you would have sold it by now." He turned to look at me, his eyes 7 shades of curious. The small black velvet box seemed even smaller in his enormous hands. I could see the ring that sat inside from across the room. It was a truly beautiful ring that could shine no matter how dark it was. Sudden, I feel angry at Bane. He has no right to go through my things like this and just demand answers. I strongly walked over and grabbed the box from him, snapping it shut in the process.

"If I had been in love, well I'd be married by now, wouldn't I?" It was a sharp comment, sounding as angry as I could muster. Some things were better left private. Bane didn't seem put off by my sudden anger. No, he simply looked amused. Like a child throwing food at a lion behind bars.

Before I could speak my mind and tell Bane to fuck off, the corner of my eye caught familiar lights shining in from my window. I frowned, alerted. Bane seemed to notice and we both rushed to the window.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Is this some kind of joke Bane? To get me to stop leaving those fucking sewers?" I was livid. My nose was flared and my eyebrows deeply set.

"This is not my doing. Time to go." He responded. I couldn't help but notice the slight sound of worry in his voice, though it didn't show on his face. In a rush, he grabbed my bag and wrist, pulling me out of my room.

"Wait!" I yelled at Bane, prying my wrist from his grasp. I ran back into my room and pulled the handgun from under my bed. Bane raised an eyebrow at me.

"What? I'm not letting them take me back to Arkham."

"Neither am I." And with that, He grabbed at my arm once more and dragged me downstairs. The red and blue lights were even brighter than they had been upstairs. They were also coming from several directions. Crap, my house was surrounded by police cars. I was only vaguely away of Bane talking into a walkie talkie, too busy trying to think of a way out.

*third person POV*

"We will hold them off for two minutes." Bane told me.

"Two minutes? I'm not sitting around here for your lackeys to come rescues us Bane."

"What exactly do you suggest Anastasia?" Bane hadn't expected the police to find Anastasia. He didn't have a gun or anything that would help them escape. Though he could try to fight them off, they were numerous, and he doubted they would both make it out unharmed.

"I have an idea." With that, she rushed to a door Bane had assumed was simply a closet or a bathroom, but instead it turned out to be stairs to a basement. Her plan was to get out through the basement?

The old wooden stairs creaked under both their weights and the smell of old hit them both like a ton of bricks.

"Jesus…I probably should have opened up a window when I got out of Arkham." Anastasia complained, trying to cover her nose. "Come on." This time, it was Anastasia who grabbed Bane's wrist and pulled him around the dark basement. He couldn't a foot ahead of him, and yet Anastasia was able to take turns without seeing.

"There." Bane looked up and sure enough, there was a window right above ground level. "It's old and doesn't open easily. I need you to break it open _quietly _while I go pull their attention elsewhere."

"How exactly are you planning on doing that?" Bane asked, unsure of how well her plan would work out.

"Don't worry about it, just do your part and I'll do mine." With that, Anastasia was gone back up the stairs. Having no choice, Bane stepped closer to the window and slammed his hand against the framing, easily breaking it completely open.

Next thing Bane knew, the heard two gunshots followed by quick footsteps across the house. Anastasia came running down the basement stairs after closing and locking the door behind her.

"Hope you got that window open, cause it's just about time to get out of here." Though Anastasia sounded casual, he could tell from the sweat on her forehead and her rushed demeanor that she was anxious. She wasted no time to jump up to reach the edge of the window and pull herself up.

"Anastasia." Bane demanded her attention, though he didn't receive it until she was halfway out.

"Yes?" She turned to look at him.

"You know I can't fit through here." Bane said calmly.

"Yea. That's pretty obvious. But I couldn't wait for your guys to show up. Sorry." That was all she said to him before running across the front yard. Bane wondered where all the policemen had gone but quickly understood the gunshots had been a distraction to the other side of the house. Of course they had assumed she'd try to escape out the back.

A part of Bane was impressed with Anastasia. Survival really was her top priority. However, that part that was impressed was overshadowed by the part of him that realized the police would come bursting in here in only minutes. Though he wasn't really worried. He smirked at Anastasia's retreating form before his fist smashed into the wall next to the window, making it bigger with every punch. Soon enough, he was able to pull his huge frame out of the basement and reached the street just in time. A black SUV pulled up and the door was thrown open long enough for Bane to jump in before the van drove off, tires squealing on the pavement in the process.

"Well, this is awkward…" Bane slowly turned his head to see Anastasia sitting on the other side. She had on a tight smile. "Hi…" With that, Bane threw his fist into her face, too quickly for Anastasia to block it.

"Fuck! Seriously?" She clutched her nose as blood dripped through her fingers.

"Yes." Bane looked forward at his men driving.

"Jesus Bane, you don't need to get all butthurt about it…" With that, the rest of the ride was silent. Though Anastasia was glad to have made it out of there, she couldn't help but feel disappointed that she wouldn't be able to go back there, ever.

"Sir, we received a letter for the girl." The driver told Bane.

"What?" Anastasia quickly asked, confused. The man continued.

"After we received your call, we headed for the car. There was an envelope stuck under the windshield wipers." The man pulled the envelope out and handed it to Bane. Anastasia was tempted to snatch it from him and open it herself, but she didn't want to get hit in the face again. Instead, she just watched for his reaction. When none came, she frowned.

"What does it say?" She asked him urgently. Instead of replying, he handed her the piece of paper, which she grabbed in a fraction of a second. Her eyes scanned the page quickly. Bane watched her as she read. He noticed her nose flared and her eyebrows pulled together more. She was livid. In the next second, she crumpled the letter and violently threw it across the car. Breathing hard, she bent over herself, her elbows on her knees, looking out the window.

"Fucking Marcus Hopkins..." Bane heard her curse under her breath.

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**That's it! Hope you liked it! Don't forget to REVIEW!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Here's chapter 18! I would be watching the Super Bowl, but I'm still too upset that the Patriots didn't make it to watch it. So instead I wrote this! _  
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**I'd like to reach 100 reviews before my next chapter, so make it happen guys! :] Enjoy**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia**

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_Dear Anastasia,_

_I couldn't help but notice you're coming after me. I suggest you change your course of action, because you're in just a little bit over your head._

_PS You have a lovely home._

_-Marcus Hopkins_

The contents of the letter swam around Anastasia's head for the entire ride back. There were no words to describe how angry she was at the moment. Not only had he found out where her house was, but he also knew she stayed with Bane. Hopkins was right; she was in way over her head. However, this hadn't convinced her to 'change her course of action' as he'd put it. No, this only made her want to kill the fucker more. Anastasia turned to the right to look at Bane, who was simply looking forward with a blank expression.

"So, about me leaving you behind in my basement…" She started awkwardly. She wasn't sorry, but she did have to live with the guy now, so maybe she should make some kind of half-assed apology.

"No need to fake any feelings of guilt Anastasia." Bane replied, his eyes moving to meet hers before continuing. "I broke you out of Arkham for your instincts. The point was never to have them change during your stay with me." With that, the two stared at each other for several seconds. Anastasia was unsure of how to respond to that. She wasn't often told that it was actually okay for her to react the way she did.

"Oh. So why did you punch me in the face then?" She asked with a sharp tone, picking at the dry blood around her nose and mouth. Bane didn't answer her question, only smirked and look forward once more.

Soon enough, they were back weaving through the intricate system of sewer tunnels. Anastasia couldn't help but frown as she reminded herself that she would be living here from now on. This place was not woman friendly. That thought reminded Anastasia of a very important question she had for Bane.

"Hey Bane, do you guys even have a bathroom here?" She prayed to God the answer was yes, and from of 'are you an idiot?' stare Bane gave her in response, she figured it was. Without a word, Bane led Anastasia to his bedroom where in the back was a door that led to a small bathroom. He turned the light on and Anastasia stepped through, looking around. It wasn't a 5-star hotel, but it would suffice. There was a normal looking toilet and a shower….err…corner. It was mostly a showerhead coming out of the wall pointed at the corner of the room, with a drain on the ground. No curtain or stall or anything like that. Suddenly, Bane spoke up.

"It's time to start training. Change." He commanded before turning and heading for the room.

"Wait, now?"

"Now." The firmness of his voice kept Anastasia from arguing any farther. Instead, she sighed and started riffling through her bag for some kind of tank top and sweatpants. She couldn't help but try to imagine what kind of torture training with Bane was going to be.

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_*3 hours later*_

Bane's elbow collided with Anastasia's face once more, sending her flying several feet back and to the ground. This time, she didn't get up. She stayed lying on her side, her face pressed to the cold stone.

"Get up." Bane ordered her, walking up to her and kicking at her feet. She didn't move, only kept breathing hard.

"I said get up Anastasia."

"Bane, you've been kicking the shit out of me for about 3 hours now. Can we take a break?" Anastasia asked, desperate for a drink of water. Her body felt like it was about to fall apart of the seams. The bruises were obvious and numerous on her arms and legs, not to mention her face. Though she'd started out defending herself well enough, after the first hour her muscles had started protesting. It had been downhill from there. Bane had certainly not been holding back much.

Bane's answer to her request was quite clear, though not verbal. His hands slammed down onto her back and pulled her to her feet by the thin material of her black wife-beater. He regarded her face carefully. Her left eye was almost closed shut and her forehead matted with dry blood. Her jaw also seemed very bruised. No permanent damage though. She would keep fighting.

"You must teach your muscles to obey you, but the other way around." Bane threw the girl backwards, putting both his fists up, readying for another round.

"What the hell are you talking about Bane? That's how muscles work! They're strong until they're not. It doesn't matter what the hell I tell them!" Anastasia on the other hand didn't put her fists up. At the moment, she was focused on keeping herself from crumbling to the ground.

"That is the easy way out." Bane responded calmly.

"Not all of us are on steroids Bane! Some of us are only just human!" She yelled, she blue eyes piercing his with rage. At that comment, Bane put his hands down and walked towards her. Anastasia wasn't sure what he was going to do, but at that point, she didn't care as long as he wasn't making her fight. Unfortunately for her, the moment Bane was within reach of her, he swung his arm at her and punched her hard. To say Anastasia went down like a ton of bricks would have been an understatement.

The 'crack' sound Anastasia's head made when it collided with the ground echoed throughout the large room. Bane watched her as she sputtered blood out of her mouth and as her eyes fluttered closed. The pain she'd earned from that last punch was enough to make her black out, and she welcomed it with open arms. Bane on the other hand was disappointed with her performance. She was weaker than he thought she would be. He knew she could fight better than that, but it didn't seem like her heart was in it. She'd only defended herself, never attacked. He figured it was because she didn't feel like he was enough of a threat to actually fight back. With that thought, Bane decided it was time to motivate her. He wiped his bloodied hand on his pants and walked out, leaving Anastasia behind.

It wasn't until hours later that Anastasia came around. At first, she'd been completely disoriented in the barely lit room. Sure enough, as she tried to push herself into a sitting position, the 'training' session with Bane memory resurfaced. Her body screamed in pain with every move. What the hell had she gotten herself into? Bane would surely end up killing her this way. Anastasia let her body rest for several minutes before attempting to get up. Attempting being the key word. Every joint and muscles screamed with outrage as she pulled herself off the stone ground and headed for the door with a slight limp. Now to remember how to get back to Bane's room. After several minutes of struggling to haul herself around and avoiding curious stares from Bane's men, she finally found the right door. Without knocking, she burst in to find Bane standing by her bag, folder in hand. As if her day hadn't already been terrible enough.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" She yelled at him, catching him by surprise. Bane had been so entranced but the contents of the folder and making meaning of them he hadn't heard her come in. "You know Bane, I know you're trying to figure shit out about me, but pushing me this hard and going through my stuff without my permission sure as hell isn't the way to do it." A fraction of a second later, the folder was ripped out of Bane grasp and closed. Bane only shook his head at her. Where was this anger when they'd been fighting? Where was the fire when he wanted to see it? Maybe it was up to him to start it.

Only an instant later, Bane had Anastasia grabbed by the throat and slammed against the wall, the folder once again in his hands. The look of surprise on her face was short-lived and quickly replaced with anger and determination. Bane was about to make some smart-ass comment to anger her further before her hand crashed into his throat hard enough to make him choke violently and let her go. Next, her knee smashed into his crotch, furthering Bane's pain. Unfortunately for Anastasia, Bane wasn't so easily incapacitated, and her actions were responded to with a swift punch to the stomach. She doubled over with a cough but recovered quickly. She knew if she waited too long, Bane would recuperate fully from her assault and beat her easily, so she did the one thing she knew would be a real problem for Bane. She pulled every ounce of strength she had in her already weakened body and threw her first straight to Bane's face. More specifically, his mask. The pain that arose in her knuckles was instantaneous and harsh, but she knew it was nothing compared to what Bane felt as she saw 2 small tubes dislodged from the metal contraption.

Bane scrambled to push the mask back together. His large fingers seemed too big to perform the delicate task, and when Anastasia place her foot on his chest and pushed, he fell easily onto his back. The pain that radiated throughout his body was surreal, only letting a strangled groan escape his lips. His hands shook violently, still hovering over the mouthpiece. Practically blind with pain, he could only see Anastasia's outline hovering over him. He vaguely wondered if she would keep watching him suffer, but he knew if she attacked him once more, he would push through the pain and fight, maybe even kill her.

Less than a minute that felt like hours to Bane later, Anastasia dropped to her knees and pushed his hands away from the mask. She took one hard look at the mask before starting to connect the tubes back into their original place, carefully screwing them in as well. Slowly, whatever the mask did to keep Bane out of pain started working again as she heard him inhale as deeply as he could.

They stayed that way, Anastasia kneeling on the ground next to a recuperating Bane.

"I know that's the response you were looking for all day." Anastasia told Bane, looking only at her hands, intertwined in her lap. "I'd rather you didn't try to provoke me that way again." Bane only looked at the woman that sat next to him. He had known she could be dangerous when she wanted to. He just didn't understand how him beating her half to death hadn't gotten that same response. He didn't understand. Yet.

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**Aaaannnnnd that's it! Hope you liked it, now don't forget to...**

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**...Wait for it...**

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	19. Chapter 19

**Here's chapter 19! It's not long, and it's mostly a filler, but it's a very important filler. You get to see more of Anastasia's human side, which is definitely important. Especially to Bane :P**

**BY THE WAY! I had any idea! For those of you who have Twitter, follow me FrenchMyTweets (yes, I will follow you back :]). Mostly because I'm hilarious, but also because I'm thinking I'll update of my chapter progess there, and maybe if I get writter's block I can ask you guys for some help/advice. **

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia**

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"What are those pictures of?" Bane was now sitting up on the ground, his back leaning against the bed. Anastasia was cross-legged in front of him, looking down at the folder in her hands. Bane watched her tilt her head slightly to the right, as if she was considering how to phrase her thoughts. When she opened the folder, her fingers went to spread the various pictures around. Bane didn't know who the people in them were. Some were actual photographs, while others were newspaper cutouts. He carefully observed her eyes. Sometimes, if he was lucky, he could actually see emotions floating across them. Rarely, but when it did happen, Bane learned more about her than he ever thought he could.

The moment her eyes scanned the pictures, her face became a canvas. At first, pain was splashed across her crystal blue eyes with a curve of sadness crawling over her full lips. He watched as her fingertips grazed over the surface of each face in front of her. She sighed, her head tilting the other way now. Bane couldn't keep from noticing the way her hair slid from her shoulder to her back, some of the strands previously caught behind her ear falling into her eyes.

This woman was a contradiction in itself. There were times she looked almost beyond human with her stoic expressions and her seemingly emotion void personality. As if she was carved in white marble, every inch of her smooth and perfected. Other times however, it was as if the dam that kept all those emotions away was completely ripped to shreds, and the avalanche of humanity came crashing down on her features. Right now was once of those times, and Bane could not for the life of him pry his eyes away from Anastasia's face. He watched as the pain and sadness slowly melted into reminiscence and the joy of fond memories. He decided not to hound her with questions. It was one of those moments where she had to tell him on her own, rather than spit it at him in annoyance. But after several minutes, her eyes flickered to Bane, almost reminding herself that he was there with her.

"These pictures…" She started, a small smile gracing her lips. "I started collecting them right around the time I decided to try to stop cutting. I know it sounds pathetic, and trust me, I mentally kick myself everyday for ever starting, but it was a really hard habit to quit." Anastasia watched the beast of a man that was quietly listening to her. She was surprised that he wasn't asking questions left and right like he usually was. His face was calm. At least, the parts of it that she could see. God, how she wished she knew what his whole face looked like. She often found herself wondering what kind of lips he had. Full? Thin? Soft? Rough? But she knew she'd never find out. Even if Bane could take the mask off, she knew he'd never take it off in front of her. Did she even want him too? She was afraid of what it would mean if he did. It was easy to forget that this was all smoke and mirrors, and that she going to leave him eventually. But it was what it was, and forgetting that could only mean trouble. And yet, here she was, about to share one of the most personal aspects of her life with Bane.

"These are picture of people in my life who have accepted me just how I am. People who believed in me and didn't make me out to be crazy or an outsider." Ruffling the pictures around a bit, she found the one she was looking for and handed it to Bane. He took it gently as to not damage the small photograph.

It was of a young couple in their late 20's. Both had black hair and giant smiles. In their arms was a tiny bundled up baby who couldn't have been more than a few weeks old.

"That's me." Anastasia told Bane, referring to the infant. "And those are my parents." Bane hadn't needed her to tell him that, the resemblance they shared was obvious. She had their hair, her father's eyes, and her mother's facial structure. Bane was still gazing at the picture when Anastasia handed him 2 another ones. This time they were newspaper clippings. Two more couples, both with a young child, maybe 11 or 12, between them.

"Remember those men I killed in the bar, who were dealing drugs to kids?" Anastasia asked Bane, to which he simply nodded. "Well, those were 2 of the kids, with their parents. The parents," Anastasia smiled and chuckled a bit before continuing. He could tell this wasn't a story she was used to telling. "They came to visit me once I got arrested, before they transferred me to Arkham. I thought they were going to tell me off, the way most people did when they found out what I did. But they didn't. They were there to thank me. They actually said thank you for killing those men. They told me they didn't think I was crazy, and that I'd done something the police couldn't have done, and that they'd be forever grateful. Saw their picture in the newspaper the next day and cut it out. Kept it during my entire stay at Arkham, until finally you broke me out and I was able to add it to the folder." Bane didn't respond, only kept observing her. You could tell she was grateful for those parents, and that their appreciation of her actions meant a lot to Anastasia.

Next, Anastasia picked up another photograph, but this time she was hesitant to hand it to Bane. She peaked up at him through her eyelashes before quickly handing it to him, as if to get it over with before she changed her mind. The photo was of her, a younger her, and a boy who looked about the same age. He was handsome, with his arm wrapped around Anastasia's shoulders affectionately. Though Anastasia was looking at the camera, her tongue sticking out to form a goofy face, the boy's eyes were glued to her. You could feel the love he had for her from just a glance at the picture. That was when he noticed the ring on Anastasia's hand, which rested on the chest of the boy. There, sitting next to her pinky finger, was the engagement ring he'd found earlier.

"The fiancé." Bane finally spoke.

"Ex-fiancé." Anastasia clarified.

"Did he leave you?" Bane asked. The moment he said that, he realized it might have sounded rude to Anastasia. He'd simply assumed, since she was so touchy about the subject. And as if to reinforce his idea of her being sensitive to those kinds of questions, he noticed her instantly tense up and pull the pictures away from his hands.

"No." Her icy blue eyes shot up to glare at Bane's. "I left him."

"And why is that?" Bane asked, curious as to what this story was about.

"He was a good man. He deserved better than what I could give him." That made Bane almost laugh.

"How very not survival of the fittest of you." Bane commented.

"I've never pretended to be more than human Bane. That's your job." With that, Anastasia closed the folder and stood up, walking to the bag to stuff the pictures back where they belonged. When she turned back around to leave the room, she almost jumped a foot in the air at the sight of Bane inches away from her. He regarded her with an expression that told her they were far from done here.

Bane stepped towards her to the point where his chest almost touched hers, to which she responded with a step back. One step forward, one step back. Until her back hit the wall.

"Bane-" Anastasia started, voice anxious, but stopped as Bane raised his hand to her face. She almost stopped breathing when his thumb stroked against her lower lip in a way that brought blood to her cheeks. His body pressed closer to hers, successfully trapping her in place. "Bane…" This time, her voice wasn't anxious, it was lustful. And Bane was more than happy to oblige.

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**I hope you liked it, because I loved writing it!**

**REVIEW!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Ahhhhh I've hit 102 reviews and over 12000 views, I'M SO EXCITED! Thank all of you sooooo much! I love you!**

**Ok so, I know it's super short! I'm sorry! I promise things are about to pick up! Also, there is a part in this chapter where i go slightly more into the nature of Bane and Talia's relationship. I like my take on it, and if you don't like it well I'm sorry but I'm not going to change it. This is not going to be one of those stories that make Talia out to be a huge bitch too. I will update by the end of this weekend. I hope you still like the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia.**

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Anastasia barely noticed the beads of sweat dripping down her breasts, or the way a few strands of her hair were caught on the rough stone wall she was currently up against. All she could focus on was the man who her thighs were currently wrapped around while he thrust into her hard enough to bring every cell in her body at attention. The pleasure was mind blowing. It went through her like wildfire until she was reduced to nothing more than a pile of ashes in Bane's hands. His huge, hot, very skilled hands that found the sweet spot that was her clit just in time to push her over the edge once more. Bane watched as the waves of pleasure crashed over Anastasia repeatedly until the strength left her legs and she almost fell to the ground. Thankfully, Bane caught her in time and carried her to the bed, where he laid her on her back before retreating to go slip on pants.

When he buckled his belt, he looked back at Anastasia and found her still breathing hard on her back. His eyes roamed her body for a moment. She was utter perfection in his eyes. Cleary, the product of thousands upon thousands of years of evolution. Every curve flowed smoothly and her skin was pulled taunt in just the right places, while voluminous in others. He could not get enough of her. He was addicted to rendering her to this state of bliss, where she could not move or function right. He loved to get her completely undone in his arms, and knowing he was the entire reason for it was a satisfaction he had never known before.

Though Bane had been no virgin before Anastasia. He and Talia had tested the boundaries of their relationship in that way. In the end, it had proved to be a line that was not to be crossed again. But with Anastasia, it was a line he wanted to cross on a regular basis. Bane watched as her fully developed chest rose and fell with each deep breath, her skin a deep pink from the adrenaline. Her legs were folded and bent, hiding her most intimate part from him and her arms we sprawled besides her. Her hair was a mess of black around her face and her eyes fluttered closed for a moment before they opened and zeroed in on him.

"It's not polite to stare." Anastasia told him, the sexiest of smirks gracing her lips. Bane was almost tempted to go back to bed and have another round with her, but alas they had duties to attend to. When he didn't respond, Anastasia spoke up once more. "I'm going out tomorrow night." At that, Bane stopped in the middle of flipping his shirt right side out.

"No, you are not." Bane responded.

"Yes I am. I'm not a prisoner here, remember?" Anastasia rose from the bed and walked to the pile of her discarded clothes, not failing to notice Bane's eyes falling on her backside as she bent of her retrieve them.

"The police are out looking for you. Would you like to go back to Arkham?"

"I'm going to a club in the shitty part of town. No one will be looking for me there"

"If you think going to a _club_," Bane practically spat, "in a bad part of town is reassuring, you're mistaken. You will stay here."

"It's my birthday, and I'll do whatever the fuck I want Bane." Anastasia stated while looking at his head on. Her head was held high with her shoulders back. Clearly, she had no intention of backing down. Instead of arguing more, Bane had an idea.

"As you wish." With that, Bane headed for the door. Anastasia suddenly frowned. What? That was it? Bane was definitely up to something. She'd expected a long fight about it. "But for now, we must remove those stitches. Follow me." Anastasia rushed to slip on her sweatpants and shirt before rushing out of the bedroom after Bane.

"Isn't it a bit soon to take them out?" Anastasia's fingers gently outlined the scab through her shirt.

"It has healed amazingly." Was all Bane answered.

Less than an hour later, the two were in the training room sparring. Anastasia's stitches had been removed, allowing her to move freely without that awkward tugging sensation. Today, she was doing a bit better. She was defending herself more aggressively and once in a while she's even attempt attacking him. Without success, of course. Bane knew it was because she wasn't angry at him, and while he'd had fun getting a rise out of her before, right now was not a moment to push her, he could tell.

"Can we," Anastasia took a deep breath, hands on her knees and sweat dripping off her forehead, "just take a break for a second?"

"An enemy will not give you a moment to rest Anastasia."

"I'm well aware of that Bane. An enemy is also not likely to be a mutant like you." With that comment, Anastasia received a kick to the middle of her chest, throwing her several feet back and completely out of breath. As she lay there, trying to shove oxygen into her lungs, Bane stood by her, staring down with his head tilted slightly. Anastasia was sure he was going to hit her again, ending the fight properly. Instead, he extended his hands to her, which she skeptically grabbed. She couldn't help but notice how tiny and fragile her hands looked in his, and it made her feel uneasy. In a fraction of a second, she was on her feet and gained her balance. She watched Bane's retreating back as he left the room, following him several seconds after, wondering what was up with him.

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**That's it, so REVIEW!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Whoa. This is the longest chapter I have EVER written! Please review this! I'm quite proud of it and I worked really hard on it, so I'd really appreciate more feedback than usual (though special thanks to all those who review on a chapter basis!). Anyways, please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia**

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I woke up in a cold and empty bed.

"I will be busy for most of tomorrow. We will resume training the day after." Bane had told me before he crawled into bed and went to sleep. Every time he laid down on the mattress, the dip he created made my body naturally gravitate towards him. I fought that hard that night, my mind consumed with thoughts of his plan for Gotham and my survival. Lately, my thoughts often drifted back to that one question. How was I going to get out of here? Bane hadn't started to include me in his plans yet, and I was in the complete dark as to what was going on. I needed to start thinking of a way to encrust myself in the circle of people who knew what was going on. Once I knew his grand plan, I could start thinking of a way to get out. I didn't know where I was going to go quite yet, but away seemed like a good enough idea at the moment.

Today, I am 25 years old. Happy birthday to me. But hey, at least I'm not spending it in Arkham. I know it's hard to believe it, but the nurses at Arkham are not the kind to give me a birthday cupcake and watch me blow out the candle. I don't get particularly excited for birthdays normally, mostly because they never make you feel any different, but also because I don't have much to celebrate. Although considering where I'm living, my survival is a pretty impressive feat, so maybe I should consider being grateful for that.

Finally, I sit up. My hands automatically fly to my head where of course, I find the rat's nest I've been trying to pass as hair for the past couple of weeks. The pitch black strands fall almost to my waist now, which is longer than I've had it in a long time. The bangs have been grown out for a while now, falling just below my jaw. It doesn't look bad, but it's not as neat as I'd like it to be. I'd get it cut, but nowadays that seems a bit risky, and I don't exactly trust myself to do it with scissors. With a defeated sigh, I quickly braid my hair over my right shoulder and head for my duffel bag, where I pull out my most comfortable pair of sweatpants. Once I slip them on and readjust the tank top I slept in, I grab my pocket sized mirror out of the bag also. Mirrors with Bane aren't really a priority, so there isn't one in his bathroom and having to use a pocket sized one constantly is beginning to get on my nerves. The bags under my eyes aren't as prominent today, which is good, but my skin color is dulling probably from a lack of sunlight.

My next move? Food. I slip on socks quickly and head for the hallway, which is almost empty, save for a few men walking around. I assume the majority are with Bane. I head to the sad excuse for a kitchen. I wouldn't really call it a kitchen, more like a space where someone threw in the cheapest foods they could find at Wal-Mart and let a pack of wild dogs at it. It usually gets cleaned at the end of the day, thank God, but since it's late morning and the men have already had breakfast, the place is already a mess. There are crumbs of bread and chips all over the island and half the cabinets have been left open. Part of me is surprised that Bane lets this place get so repulsive, but the other half of me reasons that he probably doesn't frequent the food room much, what with the mask and all. I wonder how he does eat…

That's when I notice what's in the middle of the island, almost hidden behind a crushed water bottle. I frown and get closer, almost not believing my eyes. It's a cupcake. With a motherfucking candle on it.  
"Ha!" I let out a loud laugh at the irony of the birthday cupcake as I pick it up and inspect it closer. It's a chocolate cupcake, obviously store bought, but flawlessly iced. I don't have to wonder who left it out for me. It's Barsad. He must've heard it was my birthday when I mentioned it to Bane. Barsad is a sweet guy, I can tell. He has eyes so freaking clear blue you'd think you could see right through them into his head, and so gentle it almost feels like he's holding my face when he looks at me. Not intimately of course, I can't imagine how Bane would feel about that. Not intimately, but out of respect. He's surprised I've stayed alive this long, and to be honest so am I, and because of that he treats me in a way not many people do nowadays. Like a human being. I value his presence here.

When my teeth dig into the cupcake, I can't help but let out a deep moan of pleasure. The sugar brings my mouth to life and I salivate more than a dog before a meal. Cupcake in hand, I head back to the room, wondering what I'm supposed to do with myself until tonight.

Once I plop back down onto the bed, the cupcake wrapper discarded, I stare blankly at the ceiling. Then suddenly, I have an idea. I shoot back upright and my eyes fall on Bane's desk. A small smile creeps up on my face as my eyes dart to the door to make sure it's closed, and then back to the desk. In a fraction of a second, I'm pulling at one of the 6 drawers of the wooden furniture. All locked. My lips pout subconsciously, but I quickly cheer up and run to my bag. It takes a bit of riffling through before I find my target. Two bobby pins. I straighten them out and bring them over to the desk before sitting cross-legged and getting to work.

I'm a little rusty at this, I'll admit. But, in the end, I get the top left drawer open. I open it excitedly, and behold! It's empty. An irritated 'urg' escapes my lips, but I haven't given up quite yet. I move on to the second drawer, managing to unlock it quicker than the first. Again, nothing.

It isn't until the 4th drawer that my excitement peaks at the sight of stack of papers. At the top is a newspaper. I gently pull it out, intent on returning everything to its original position once I'm done. At first, it seems like a normal newspaper, and I start to think that maybe Bane just enjoys the Sudoku on the back. But as I flip through the pages I start to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Sure enough, as I flip to the next page, my eyes fall on a picture that is much too familiar.

It's my mug shot from when I was arrested for killing those 13 men, and it is one shitty picture. I look like a drug addict who just got dragged through a ditch. Getting shot in the ass by a tranquilizer can do that to a girl. The picture is captioned with 'Bar Killer Served On A Silver Platter!" in big, bold, black letters. I don't bother to read through the article, since I've already read it about a million times and I know it practically by heart.

I fold the newspaper back up and set it on the floor next to me. Next in the stack is a group of pictures of Arkham. I pull them out and quickly look through them. There's picture of the nurses that often visited me, my main doctor, and several of the layout of the building I was in. I figure these were taken to figure out a way to broke me out. I assume they came in handy, since they just ended up blowing up the front entrance anyways.

I blindly grabbed at the next item in the stack and pulled out a clipboard with a thick stack of papers clipped into it. At first, my curiosity simply peaked once more. This actually looked interesting. But at soon as I read the words on the front paper, my blood ran cold.

_Anastasia Rose Delcourt_

_Age of admittance: 21_

_Height: 5'9''_

_Weight: 130 lbs_

_Hair: Black_

_Ethnicity: Caucasian _

_Verdict upon entry: Guilty._

_Charges: Manslaughter._

This was my medical chart from Arkham. The one that went missing months before Bane broke me out. I still remember the day the doctor came in to tell me it had been 'misplaced'. I'd been livid.

"_I thought my meetings were only in the afternoons." I managed to say through a heavy yawn. It was early in the morning. The hall guard had woken me up to tell me the doctor was pulling me out of my cage for a meeting. Not his exact words, but they might as well have been._

"_They are, but this isn't that type of meeting." Dr. Rivers replied. He was an unattractive man in his late 40's. But overall, he wasn't bad. Not the head of Arkham, but one of the smaller doctors that worked under him which I was glad for. I'd heard the head guy was a total dick. That's when I noticed the blank clipboard he was holding. He continued. "It seems your chart has been…momentarily misplaced."_

"_Momentarily misplaced?" I asked teeth clenched and eyes narrowed. _

"_Yes. I'm here to go over with you your treatments since you got here. Not the minor details, just the major events. Sort of a temporary chart, if you will, until we find yours."_

"_You've got to be fucking kidding me. You woke me up before dawn because you assholes can't do your job right?" Fortunately for Dr. Rivers, he wasn't the type of man to be intimidated by my attitude. _

"_Yes." He simply replied as he wrote my name in big at the top of the first page. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. This was going to be a long morning._

Three hours later, we had a 'temporary' chart that was about 5 pages long. After listing countless drugs, and not so therapeutic treatments that had been borderline torture, we'd listed all the major events, as Dr. Rivers had called them. I couldn't believe Bane had been the one to steal my chart. I flipped through it quickly, my eyes falling on certain words. Electroshock therapy was the main one that made me cringe.

"_Miss Delcourt! I'm Dr. Traneth and we're going to be trying something new today!" The man that stood at my door was one I'd never seen before. Where was Dr. Rivers? As if the man read my mind, he continued to explain. "Dr. Rivers is out on personal business for the next month, so I'm in charge until he returns. Now I see here he doesn't have you on too many meds…" He drifted off as his eyes roamed my chart. Dr. Rivers was a good doctor, he knew I didn't need to be on a million and one drugs that would turn me into a zombie. So no, he didn't, only light sedatives and anti-depressants. Which didn't do shit for me anyways. But at that moment, I almost wished I had been on a shit ton of drugs, because maybe if I had, Dr. Traneth wouldn't have uttered his next sentence._

"_We're going to see if some electroshock therapy will do you any good." My eyes went wide and my fist instinctively clenched._

"_The hell we are." My voice was deadly calm, but behind that mask was pure panic. Electroshock? Fuck no. _

But of course, after a bloody fight and some seriously buff male nurses, my ass landed in the creepiest room imaginable, strapped to a table with some kind of rubbery piece shoved in my mouth. Having electricity thrown around in your head isn't pleasant. I feel the need to reiterate that. It is not fucking pleasant.

And Bane knew. He fucking knew that this was going on. Dr. Rivers had been out for much longer than a month, and Dr. Fucking Traneth made me his new favorite plaything. God that man had issues. Thankfully, none of his little experiments did any damage. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I slept for days on end. Some days I couldn't get myself to open my eyes. And some I almost felt brain dead, staring at the white wall for hours on end. But eventually, I got over it.

And Bane fucking knew! My hands crumpled the chart violently and I threw it across the room as hard as I could. How fucking could he read all about what kind of torture I was going through and wait so long to get me out!

My breathing became heavy as I got up and paced around the small cold room. I was fucking livid. If Bane had been here right now, I might have killed him. Or at least tried to. No, I would have killed him. The rage pulsing through my veins ensured that at the moment.

I couldn't stay in this fucking bedroom any longer, so I stormed out and headed where I knew I could blow off some steam.

Bane had showed me this room a couple of days ago after training, and had told me it was open to my use. Until now, I'd had no desire to punch a bag of sand. But boy did I have to desire to now. I didn't bother wrapping my fists with anything before I started throwing punches and kicks at the bag. It was surrounded by many others, all hanging from the ceiling. I'm guessing this is where a lot of his men spent their time staying in shape. This is where I was going to spend some time today.

Every hit I delivered to the sand was fueled by anger. Anger at Bane for not getting me out of there sooner. Anger at the doctors at Arkham for making me go through their sick 'therapeutic' treatments. Anger at myself for getting caught. Angry at Marcus Hopkins. I was going to kill the bastard if that was the last thing I did.

I wasn't sure how long I was in there, but by the time I dropped to my knees from exhaustion, my first were a raw, bloody mess. I grabbed the sides of the bag to keep it still and rested my sweaty forehead against the cool fabric. My arms felt like they would drop off at any second and the top of my foot stung from the kicking.

"Anastasia." My head snapped to the main double doors. I half expected to see Bane, but instead it was Barsad. "You alright?" He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, taking in my defeated form.

"Just peachy." I replied as I got to my feet, with much resistance from my muscles might I add.

"Go take a shower. Then come find me so I can take care of your hands." He commanded gently. I didn't argue, it's not like I could go around with them bleeding everywhere. Not tonight anyways. With that, he walked away, turning left into the hall while I went right.

Once in the shower, I wasn't sure I could leave its warmth. Thought the shower itself was absolute shit, the water was hot enough something. And today, it was definitely hot enough. I left the scalding water run over my breasts and my back, fighting the goose bumps that threatened to appear all over my body. As my fingers glided over my stomach, the tips just barely grazed the almost gone scab that had once been the wound on my ribs. I looked down to see that Bane had been right. It had healed perfectly. Though it would leave a rather brutal scar. But hey, what's one more when you've already got so many?

I rubbed the shampoo into my hair furiously, trying to wash the sweat out, and when I felt I was successful enough, I brushed conditioner through the strands. And then I stood there, the water hitting my face and chest. I wasn't sure how long it was until I snapped out of my little trance, but when I did, my skin was scarlet red. Finally, I shut the water off and grabbed the small towel which I used to quickly dry myself and wrap my hair with. Next, I slipped on my most comfortable jeans and tee-shirt, towel dried my hair a bit, and went looking for Barsad.

Ten minutes later, I found myself sitting on a stool, watching Barsad as prepared to disinfect my fists. It wasn't too bad, just severely rubbed raw. I wouldn't need to bandage it, Barsad told me.

"Ouch!" I yelled unexpectedly.

"Really? You have a fist fight with a bag of sand for 3 and a half hours and you're sensitive to the pair from rubbing alcohol?" He sounded amused.

"It's a different kind of pain…" I defended quietly. "Is Bane back?" I asked him. I wasn't as angry with Bane as much now, but I was still going to demand some fucking answers. Barsad smirked at my question.

"Not yet. He had a few things to take care of." His eyes met mine. God they were blue. Like Bane's, but not as hypnotizing.

"Good. Do you know what time it is?" I sucked in air through my teeth as the cotton ball dabbed as a new spot.

"Around 8:30."

"I'm going to be leaving soon."

"That's fine. I'll let Bane know." An awkward silence fell over us as he kept handling my hands. That is, until he asked me the question that had been dancing in his eyes since he got back. "So what provoked this sudden urge to punch things?" Again, that tone of amusement. But the real question was, should I tell him what I found? I knew he already knew about it. He was Bane's right hand man after all. But then again, I'd crumpled up and thrown the file around so someone would find out eventually.

"Found my chart." My eyes darted to his accusingly, but he showed no guilt as he chuckled slightly.

"About time. Bane thought you'd find it way earlier." My jaw dropped. Of course Bane had meant for me to find it. Of course! God, I was sick of his games. "You're angry because he stole your chart?"

"What? No," I frowned, "I'm pissed because you guys knew about what they were doing to me in there for months before you broke me out.

"He wanted to know if you were strong enough." Barsad explained. Now that was unexpected.

"Strong enough?"

"To handle what they put you through. He wouldn't go through the trouble of breaking you out if he wasn't sure your psyche could handle whatever he put you through."

"I guess that makes sense…You guys are still dicks though. Electric currents through your head aren't all that much fun." That earned enough laugh from him, and I couldn't help but smile with him.

"I imagine not." His eyes met mine once more, letting go of my hands. "All done."

"Thanks." I gave him a half smile before hopping off the stool and heading for the door.

"Have fun tonight." I heard him call as I almost reached the door. "Oh and Anastasia?" This time, I stopped and turned.

"Yea?"

"Happy birthday." He said with a mischievous smirk and a wink. I frowned at the wink and answered skeptically.

"Thanks?" It sounded like more of a question coming out, but I quickly hurried back to the room. Barsad's attitude had kind of thrown my off, and on top of that it was time to get ready.

I pulled out my little cosmetic bag and got started. I didn't have much, just a small palette of eye shadow, a tube of mascara and some eyeliner. No concealer or foundation or blush or any of that nonsense. Using my pocket sized mirror to apply full eye makeup wasn't an easy task, but sure enough, a good 15 minutes later, I'd done a fairly good job of it. A contrast of black and grey eye shadow, thick eyeliner, and mascara that made my eyelashes look twice as long as they actually were. Not too shabby. Thankfully, my hair had dried into a light wave, looking good enough to not have to fuck with it tonight. Finally, I pulled the little black dress from my bag and pulled it on.

It was tight. My breasts were pushed up to my ears it seemed like, and there would be no bending down, that was for sure. If I dropped something this evening, I would consider it lost forever. Now all I needed was my small purse and my flats. I was pretty sure they were both at the bottom of my bag, so I plunged my hand in there blindly and searched around.

Instead of finding my bag and my flats, I found a very old pair of heels I thought I had lost forever again. Five inch close toed heels. I pondered for a second…Yup, these would do just fine. I quickly slipped them on and shoved my ID and money in my cleavage, screw a bag. My guess is that it was about 9:00-9:30 right about now. Perfect.

Only one problem. How was I going to get there? I sure as hell wasn't walking. Not if I didn't want to end up raped and killed in a ditch somewhere tomorrow. Maybe  
Barsad would let me borrow a car. I peaked my head out into the hallway and sure enough, there he was, standing at the end of the hallway.

"Barsad!" I yelled and I half ran (hobbled) over to him.

"Anastasia!" He joked, amused by my attempt at running in these shoes.

"I need to borrow a car." I put on my sweetest smile and puppy dog eyes, but alas, he only scoffed at me.

"Come on! It's my birthday!" I saw him ponder the thought for a second or two.

"Tell you what, I'll drive you."

"Do you have to?" I made a face, half offended at my new babysitter.

"I'm not giving you a car for the night. So unless you want to have gotten all prettied up for nothing, yes."

"Fiiiiiine. Let's go!" I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him down the hallway.

Twenty minutes later, he was dropping me off in front of The Shadow, one of the nicer nightclubs in the crappier part of town. There was no line, but you could tell from the open door that the inside was almost packed.

"Thank you Dad!" I quickly kissed Barsad on the cheek and jumped out of the truck. I didn't look back when he drove off, only flashed the bouncer my ID and walked in.

Oh yes, this would do just fine. There were strobe lights and black lights everywhere, and the bass was so strong it vibrated my body to the very core. In the middle was the DJ, surrounded by a huge mass of dancing. I would be joining them shortly. First, I had to get drunk.

With the amount of cleavage I was showing, I didn't need long to grab the bartender's attention, despite the long line of guys present there. I ordered three shorts of Jack and handed him a twenty, telling him to keep the change. Finally, the three shots that had obviously been messily poured slid in front of my. I rubbed my hands together like I was about to dig into a tasty meal and did each one back to back. I tried my hardest to not make a face as the amber liquid crawled down my throat, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. A shiver ran down my spine, and as soon as it passed, I was ready to dance. Considering how little I'd had to eat today, I'd be drunk within 15 minutes.

I'd always loved to dance. Nothing fancy, just nightclub dancing. I was good at it. My hips easily moved and my back arched in that way that looked sexy as hell. And I loved it. I loved feeling the music go through my, forcing my curves to move with its beat. I loved being lost in a crowed of bodies that felt the same as what mine was feeling. I loved dancing with men and women I didn't know. I had a psychologist tell me that I was so obsessed with this feeling because it was the one place I could easily fit in and be accepted, no questions asked. At the time, I'd been a smartass and had told her it was just being I liked to grind my ass against random guys' dicks, but I actually thought she had a good point. It didn't matter why though. All that mattered was the absolute contentment I felt on the dance floor.

A man grabbed my hips suddenly and ground himself into me. Had his been anywhere else, he would have been knocked out in 2 seconds flat, but at the moment I didn't give a damn. I leaned back in him, giving him a nice view of my cleavage in the process, which only made him hold onto me even harder. I couldn't see his face, and I really didn't care to. He was a good dancer, that's really all that mattered. Only a few minutes later did he turn me around so we were dancing face to face. He wasn't bad looking, which was a plus. Our bodies were dangerously close, leaving hardly any space between them.

Around three hours and two shots later, I was thoroughly tipsy, dancing with another man on the dance floor. This night had been perfect. Not a single worry penetrated my mine. My body was so focused on the music and the alcohol and the dancing that I was in my own world. Which is why my brain barely registered what happened in the next 3 minutes.

The first thing I heard was gunshots. Not normal ones. Automatic ones. People darted like fish in a barrel, scrambling in all fucking directions around me. Me, I didn't move. Maybe because I was too drunk to understand, or because I didn't want to believe this night was over already. But before I knew it, the club was empty except for men I didn't recognize standing by the entrances, and by the short stairs that led to the VIP section. I couldn't see who was sitting on the VIP section, but I'm guessing I was in trouble. I didn't dare say a word, I just stood there like as idiot in my too short dress and too high heels.

Then, I heard someone get up from the leather couches. I could see his outline now. This guy was a fucking tank. I was tempted to take a step back, maybe try to find a way to escape, but I didn't.

"Don't kill me, it's my birthday." As soon as the phrase left my mouth, I wanted to kick myself. God, I really was drunk.

One step down the stairs. Really heavy footsteps…Why did those sound so familiar.

It wasn't until step two that it all clicked.

"Bane?!" I yelled accusatorily. All his did was laugh that damn robotic sounding laugh while he descended the stairs. When he reached the bottom, I finally saw all of him in the light. He wore a black wife beater and pants, his hands clasped behind his back as he advanced towards me.

"What? You don't like my birthday surprise?" He was mocking me, I could tell. "I'll admit I didn't expect to find you like this." He gestured to my heels and dress. "Especially not grinding on any man within a 10 foot radius of you."

"You know, if you wanted a dance, all you had to do was ask." I replied with a devilish smirk. By now, he was standing right in front of me, blue eyes burning holed into my head. From what I could tell, he was angry. Next thing I knew, his hand was on my neck, pushing me backwards until I hit the low stage of the DJ's booth, which had been thoroughly abandoned. His grasp on my neck was loose though, and only a few seconds later, it slid to the side to push my black hair over my shoulder. His eyes ravaged my neck, collarbones, shoulders and finally my cleavage.

"I," He started, his eyes snapping back to me with so much lust I couldn't repress the sparks that flew between my legs. "Want to be the only man that gets to enjoy your body that way." Had I been sober, I may have been somewhat offended. I could do whatever I damn pleased with my body. But no, I wasn't sober, so instead of offence, his possessiveness of me only turned me on more. I let out a shaky breath when he bent his head to speak in my ear. I closed my eyes, enjoying his body being so close to mine.

"You're mine." And with that, he spun me around and bent me over the stage.

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	22. Chapter 22

**Hey guys! I promise I have not abandoned this story quite yet! I know I haven't updated in forever. School got rough, and I almost lost my scholarship. BUT I DIDN'T! So now I'm back :] I know this chapter is short, but it's just to show you I hadn't left forever. So please do review, even if it's just to cuss me out for the suuuuper long waiting time. I hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia.**

* * *

The pillow felt cool against my cheek, a sensation I gladly welcomed as my fully naked body hit the mattress. The night had not gone as expected. But looking back on it, thinking I could have a normal, Bane-less night was a stupid assumption. Of course he would find a way to insert himself into my plans.

* * *

_I hadn't quite realized I was being punished when he pushed me over the stage. Not until the sting of the fourth slap against my ass. The gasp that escaped my lips at first was mostly from being surprised. In the second was a lace of pleasure. But the fourth? None. Bane was not holding back. I was being punished for letting other men touch __**his**__ body, and he was going to make sure I didn't make the same mistake twice._

_By the ninth hit, I was fighting back tears. I was sure the skin of my ass was welted, red, and raw by now. But that did not stop Bane. He went up to 15 before finally deciding I'd had enough. When I realized the spanks had stopped, I unclenched my fists, pulling my nails from the flesh of my palm. All I could think about now was getting home, and sitting in the bucket of ice hopefully. But the second I attempted to peel my upper body off the grimy stage, Bane's oversized hand slammed down on the middle of my back, pushing me back down onto it and keeping me there. A distressed groan echoed off the walls of the nightclub. Surely he wasn't going to keep spanking me?_

_He shifted positions. Instead of standing on my left side to slap me with his right hand, he was now straight behind me._

* * *

I didn't dare try to pull the covers over me, afraid the simple weight of the sheets would cause more pain to spread over my very red and swollen ass. I let out a shaky breath. My body felt like it was going to fall apart at the seams. Some of that was due to the fact that I was dancing in too high heels for hours, but for the most part, it was due to Bane.

* * *

_I was tempted to let out a cry when Bane entered me. It was too rough, and I was unprepared. That, combined with the pain that radiated from my sore bottom every time he mercilessly slammed into me, and I was in my own personal hell. It felt like he would surely rip me open at any second. But he didn't. And he didn't stop until he was satisfied._

_ When he pulled out, a violent shutter crashed over my body. I didn't make a move. Mostly because I couldn't, but also because I didn't dare think he was done with me. I waited as I heard Bane buckle his pants back on. My dress had been pulled up around my waist, and a sleeve had fallen down. I didn't dare try to cover myself up until Bane gave me the go ahead. He didn't. Instead, he pulled the tight black fabric down himself, and once I was adequately covered, he simply walked away. It took every ounce of energy I had to pull myself up to my feet, and to stay pulled up. _

_ "Come." Bane commanded. I bowed my head, pulled my sleeve back up, and followed him out._

* * *

Sleeping on my back was not an option tonight. Nope. Only on my stomach. I caught a glimpse of my ass as I slipped my dress off, near the door. I regretted it instantly, seeing the purple welts that had formed there. Hand shaped. Bane hands. If I wasn't in so much pain, and hadn't been so thoroughly shamed, part of me might actually think it was sexy. But instead, I just wanted to forget it. To fall asleep and wake up pretending it never happened.

My heart stopped when Bane walked into the bedroom, afraid there might be a round 2. I held my breath as he crossed the room, ditching his shirt in the process. He sat on the edge of the bed, and removed his shoes. There was a pause after that. All I could see was his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in the middle.

When his head turned towards me, I quickly shut my eyes. Not to pretend I was asleep, mostly to keep him from seeing too many of the emotions that brewed in the pit of my stomach. To keep him from seeing me weak, though surely I already seemed that way, laying naked on his bed refusing to move an inch.

Bane's weight shifted on the mattress, but I screwed my eyes shut even tighter and didn't open them until I felt his fingertips glide across my shoulder blade. At that moment, I peaked at him. He wasn't looking at me though. His eyes were only on his handprints on my skin. As his fingers lightly moved from left to right, then back, I couldn't help but let out a sigh. It was the first good sensation I'd felt that night.

In a fraction of a second, Bane had me flipped, and hovered on top of me. I braced myself for the pain I was sure would come, but it never did. Bane had an arm wrapped around my hip, keeping me lifted so my ass didn't touch the mattress. I frowned, slightly confused, as he buried his face in my neck. Cold metal against my collarbone made me shiver. With his free hand, he slowly spread my legs apart, gently making his way to my clit. It shocked me how gentle his movements could be, considering his huge size, and not so sweet demeanor. But as his fingers spread my lips, wetness couldn't help but form.

Within minutes, my nails had latched onto his shoulders, my legs were firmly wrapped around him, and I was begging him to enter me. I didn't have to ask him twice. And with just as much gentleness, he entered me, slow and restrained. My moaned resonated in his ears instantly. That's when I realized what this was.

This wasn't an apology, but it was damn close.


	23. Chapter 23

**Hey guys, again sorry for the long update :[ I've been a bad writer lately, please don't hate me! I'm really trying to get things moving along in this chapter. I hope you'll see that. **

**THIS IS IMPORTANT. I need more feedback. Tell me what you want me to write. Anything from small funny scenes, to any kind of sex scene, to a big plot development you think would be cool. I want to know what you want to read. The more of these types of review I receive, the fast I'll update. I promise.**

**Disclaimer: I only own Anastasia.**

**I apologize for any spelling errors!**

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Eyelashes fluttered open at the sound of a television talking about some kind of terrorist act at a football game. Anastasia groaned and buried her head deeper into the pillow, doing her best to avoid the drool spot. It wasn't until a few seconds later, when she was almost back asleep, that Bane's name brought her attention to the newscast. Her head lifted quickly, surveying her surroundings. Bane was gone. Bane was being talking about on TV. Terrorist act.

_Shit_, Anastasia thought. This was it. This was his plan being put into action. This was the beginning of her suicide. In the past several days, Anastasia hadn't put much thought into Bane's plan, or how she would escape it. Bane and she had fallen into a comfortable routine, and Anastasia hadn't thought that routine would be disturbed so soon. But it had, and now she needed to figure out an escape.

There was a nagging thought in the back of her head that she should try to stop Bane's plan, rather than just save her own skin. There were a lot of innocent people that were going to die, after all. But was she willing to potentially sacrifice herself for them? Did she really want to cross Bane that way? She wasn't so sure. Better to be alive and living with some guilt, than be dead. Right?

Anastasia pulled the covers off of her quickly and began to stand. She was quickly reminded of the previous night however. She wasn't sure how to feel about the events that had occurred. She'd had fun at the club, but Bane's punishment was enough to make her regret her outing. However, he had made up for it later that night. He's been so gentle with her, as if she'd break into a million pieces if he was too rough with her. Anastasia was never one for lovey dovey shit, but in that moment, she'd felt truly safe.

As she slowly pulled on sweatpants, a bra, and a loose tank top, she reminded herself to take it easy for a day or two. Her rear was still very sore, though she made a mental note to give Bane shit about it later. Once fully clothed, she followed the sound until she found the TV that had woken her up. Several men crowded around it, but no one she recognized. They however, seemed to know her, because the second she showed interest in the screen, they wordlessly cleared her path.

There Bane was, in his normal clothes, wearing a thick jacket, introducing a bomb to the city of Gotham. The commotion that arose next was complete and utter chaos. How could Bane not have mentioned any of this to her? And he'd said that an average citizen had the trigger, but he wouldn't really leave it up to them, would he? He wouldn't risk that, not with the sensitivity of his plan. But then she realized, it wasn't Bane's plan. It was _hers_. Was _she_ the reason Anastasia was kept in the dark? Anger surged through the body. Bane had learned what he needed, why was she still here? What was the fucking point? She so badly wanted to smash the TV to bits, but she knew she couldn't. No, she had to pretend as though she supported this. As if this was the cleansing that she knew Gotham needed. If anyone suspected she thought this plan was absurd, they'd figure out she was planning to leave before that bomb went off. And that simply wouldn't do.

It wasn't until several hours that Bane made his way back to his makeshift home. Though he wouldn't admit it, he was mentally exhausted. The day had been exciting to say the least. He'd finally revealed him plan to the world. With no Batman in his way, he would calmly watch the city consume itself until the bomb would finish the job.

He found Anastasia in front of the small television, watching again and again the news broadcast that he'd been the star of. He stood several feet from her, admiring her slightly open mouth and her vivid blue eyes which at the moment were glued to the screen. She was sitting Indian styled on the small metal chair, her hands resting in her lap.

Anastasia had been watching the broadcast for hours, trying to absorb every single detail of it. Anything that could point to what was Bane's plan next. Any small aspect that would help her in her escape. She'd been so absorbed in the images the TV was showing her that she hadn't even noticed Bane walk over to her. It wasn't until both his hands fell on her shoulders that she was made aware of his presence. In fact, he'd surprised her so much that she was sure if his hands weren't holding her in place, she'd have fallen right out of the chair.

"Your opinion?" Bane asked her. She lifted her head back to look at him, but his eyes were narrowed on the screen. She looked back at the TV.

"The camera really does add 10 pounds." She joked as she shrugged. She was scared her voice would waver if she tried to fabricate a lie. But when Bane chuckled at her teasing, a genuine but small smile fell upon her lips. "Bane?" Anastasia asked as she formed her next question carefully.

"Yes?"

"How did…." Anastasia let out a curt breath of air, obviously frustrated, being continuing, "How did you pull this off without me noticing? How could I have been so in the dark about something this big?"

"You will sleep through anything." Bane simply said before walking to his bedroom. Anastasia's face fell.

"What?!" In a moment, she was up from her seat to follow Bane, a look in incredulity making a sudden appearance on her face. "Are you serious? What did I sleep through?"

Bane, finally in his room, slid his jacket off and place it on the back of the desk chair before answering her.

"You missed me getting permanently rid of the Batman." He answered casually, as if it was no big deal.

"Oh? Oh is that all? Just Batman getting killed?" Anastasia answered sarcastically.

"I did not kill him. He will suffer physically and mentally before his end, I assure you." That certainly made Anastasia's attitude pull back. In that instant, Bane had seemed truly dangerous to her, his eyes filled with quiet rage. In that instant, Anastasia was scared of him. And Bane must have noticed, because when his eyes landed on hers, they changed instantly. In a second, he stood over her, bringing his hand up to cup her cheeks and stroke them gently.

"The end is only a matter of months away Anastasia. There is nothing to concern yourself with. You will be kept safe." Bane told him with a voice made of honey. As much as part of Anastasia was actually comforted by his words, a nagging part of her brain yelled at her. '_Safe until the bomb blows you sky high!_' it screamed. She wasn't sure if she should focus on this voice or just let herself drown in Bane's protection. A convincing argument could be made for both, she thought as her hands settled on his chest, above layers upon layers of tense muscle. Anastasia decided to not listen to the voice inside her head at the moment. Instead, her lips found Bane's neck. She planted a kiss at the base of his neck, almost touching his collarbone. Then one a little further up. Then another. And another, until her lips found themselves right under the earpiece of his mask.

"I'm going to miss this." She whispered, she voice slightly raspy. She assumed Bane would think she meant when the bomb when off. But in reality, this was something she was going to be something she missed when she managed to leave Gotham. When she managed to leave Bane. The thought truly saddened her, much to her surprise. Anastasia hadn't expected to get so attached to him.

Bane, in response to her lips on his neck and her whisper across his skin, wrapped his arms around her waist and shoulder and pulled her close, keeping his grip on her tight. He looked down to meet the girl in his arms' eyes. She had an eye color that was uncommon with his brightness. He found it harder to look away every time they made eye contact.

Anastasia didn't know what she was looking for in Bane's look, but whatever it was, she had found in. Before she even knew what she was doing, both her hands found their way to his mask covered cheeks, and eyes closed, her lips landed on the part of Bane's mask that covered where his mouth should have been.

Kissing metal was an odd feeling. An odd feeling that didn't feel so odd when she felt Bane's hand on her waist tighten. After a few second, Anastasia pulled away, only to see Bane's eyes had closed also.

"I have several more errands to run today. I will be back later tonight." Bane told her with eyes still closed. It wasn't until he heard her disappointed 'oh' that he opened them up, taking extra precautions to keep any and all emotions out of them. He felt a churn in his stomach when he saw Anastasia's embarrassed and slightly sad expression. But nonetheless, he pulled away and without another word, he grabbed his jacket and left, leaving Anastasia to her thoughts.

She wanted to kick herself in the head. What the hell was she doing?! She thought to herself. She was supposed to be using Bane. Getting information from him to escape this forsaken city! Going around kissing him wasn't part of the plan. Well, 'kissing'. She wasn't exactly sure what she was supposed to call kissing the mouth part of his mask. But at the time, it'd seemed just as intimate as a real kiss. And either way, it was one thing to kiss him. But it is a whole other to feel so rejected when he brushes it off. Anastasia did not feel rejected. She never allowed herself to make herself vulnerable to those types of feelings. Or any feelings really…Was the hell was happening to her?

She plopped down on the bed in a huff, upset with herself. Maybe it was time to pull back from Bane a bit. Not enough for Bane to rethink whatever purpose she served here of course. But emotionally, keep Bane at bay. And the first thing she could think of to do was stop having sex with him. That had been how he'd gotten into her head. No more. No more sex with Bane. She threw herself back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. No sex with Bane.

"Well balls…"

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